The Venice Incident
by Apple-chan
Summary: Celebrations Side Story 1. LysergXJeanne, ten years after the Anime. Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out!:) [COMPLETED]
1. Chapter 1: Chance Meeting

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least read the first half of that story in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.  
  
This is otherwise known as Celebrations Side Story number 1, and is dedicated to all the LysergXJeanne fans out there. Hope you like it.

**Chapter 1 - Chance Meeting**

_Early September, 2008  
  
Venice, Italy_

"Ahh, this is the life!" Caesar sighed as he plopped down on top of the mahogany four-poster and closed his eyes. "Hn. Hey you guys..." one blue eye lazily opened as he surveyed his two companions. "What do you say we relax for the first couple of days, huh? Let's not worry about the case yet. It's not like anyone's going to get killed again anytime soon--"  
  
"Get OFF my BED this INSTANT, Silverberg," Came Luc's incredibly calm but fierce voice.  
  
The red-haired Caesar sat up and gave him a puppy-eyed pleading gaze. "Aw, Luc--" He whined.  
  
"I MEAN it, Silverberg." It was stated as an order not meant to be challenged. "If you wish to go dilly-dallying all over this place, you can do so. AFTER we solve this case," Luc said sternly. Then, the light-brown-haired detective gave his other companion a meaningful look.  
  
Lyserg Diethyl, the said companion, merely shrugged, raising a warning eyebrow at Caesar. "Get off the bed and sit on the chair, Caesar." He urged. "We need to go over that plan."  
  
"Eh...?" Caesar looked back and forth blankly between Lyserg and Luc, scratching his head. "...What plan?"  
  
Luc rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Your PLAN, Silverberg," he reminded the other man impatiently. "Hurry along with it; we don't have all day."  
  
"Whoever said I had a plan?" Caesar wondered out loud as he continued scratching his head.  
  
Luc exhaled. "THIS is why I hate working with this GUY." He got up and walked towards the window. "I told you before," he said to Lyserg, "you and I are better off without him. We're fine as it is--just the two of us. He'll just be a damn bloody bother." He added.  
  
"Whoever said I wanted to work with YOU?" The red-haired detective glared at him.  
  
Lyserg sighed in exasperation. "Let it go, Caesar. Luc didn't mean it; he's just anxious to get this job done." He admonished. "...Aren't you, Luc?"  
  
"Like hell I am." Was the curt reply.  
  
The green-haired Englishman looked back and forth between his two fellow detectives and sighed helplessly, raising his eyes to the ceiling and praying for patience. "...Alright then," he began, hastily racking his brain for anything resembling a definite plan, "let's just go over the place and ask around; we can probably pick up some clues that way," he added, glancing back and forth once more between the red-haired Caesar and the light-brown-haired Luc. "We should split up so we can cover more ground. I'll take charge of the north area from St Mark's Square. Caesar can take charge of the west area, and Luc--"  
  
"I'll take the east side," The light-brown-haired detective interrupted. "We can meet at the square in..." he flitted his gaze to his watch. "Four hours. After which, we can scan the central and south area together." He turned away from the window and glared at Caesar. "Did you understand what Lyserg and I said? Or do we have to repeat everything for the benefit of your incredibly incompetent and equally unreliable brain and memory?"  
  
Caesar glared back. "Are you INSULTING me?"  
  
"Yes. I am." Luc said in a challenging tone. "Is that a problem?"  
  
"Damn BLOODY HELL it is!"  
  
"And what do you intend to DO about it?"  
  
"Shut the F**K up, both of you!" Lyserg yelled, finally losing his patience. "Look," he said in a much calmer tone as soon as his two companions simmered down, "It's just a simple plan; I'm quite certain you both got it. So let's just get this over with." He gave them both a meaningful look. "For god's sake, lay off on the fighting, please? I'm tired of acting as your referee ALL THE TIME."  
  
Luc and Caesar glared at each other one last time, blue eyes meeting hazel green with a spark of electricity. "Alright," they relented, albeit grudgingly, in unison.  
  
"Good." Lyserg gave a sigh of relief. He stood up.  
  
"We'll meet at half past three in front of St. Mark's Square," Luc said firmly as he pulled on his forest-green trench coat. "If either one of you get there late, I'll tell my brother to cut off your paycheck," he threatened.  
  
"Sure, boss." Caesar replied sarcastically with a loud yawn.  
  
Lyserg just nodded and smiled faintly. "Whatever you say, Luc." He pulled on his black hooded overcoat.  
  
"I'll see you later!" Caesar waved cheerfully as he continued to lie down on the bed, not moving an inch.  
  
"GET THE HELL OFF MY FREAKING BED, SILVERBERG!" Luc barked as he telekinetically summoned the red-haired man off his four-poster and unceremoniously dumped him on the floor.  
  
"OUCH!" Caesar exclaimed, groaning as he got up and rubbed his sore back. "...That was LOW," he said darkly.  
  
"Hmph." Luc smirked with satisfaction. "Deal with it." He turned around. "Let's go, Lyserg."  
  
"Yes." Lyserg fought the urge to laugh out loud at the indignant expression on Caesar's face. "Come on, Caesar." He lowered his voice a bit, "You can pay him back later." He added meaningfully.  
  
"Tch." Caesar grunted as he followed his two companions out the door. "I'll get him for this, mark my words." He threatened, still groaning slightly. "Ouch."

*~*~*~*~*~*

"_Grazie_." Jeanne smiled warmly as she handed the out the last of their donation packages. The woman she had given the package to smiled and thanked her in return.  
  
As soon as the final person in the room had left, she turned to her companion. "Sister Sarah, is that everything?" She asked the silvery-blonde haired woman who was standing by the row of statues and writing something on a silver pad.  
  
"...Just a moment." Sister Sarah looked up from her pad. "Sister Vicki!" She called out to the other room. "Have we distributed all the goods to everyone?"  
  
A raven-haired young woman peeked out from the door of the said room, looking extremely nervous and quite startled. "I...I'm not sure," she said hesitantly, scratching her head in a childish fashion. "We haven't counted everything yet. I'm sorry, Sister Sarah! We'll get on it right away!" She reassured her superior hastily before stumbling back inside the room. "Note everything down, quick! Chop, chop!" Was heard from outside.  
  
Sister Sarah rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head, smiling at Jeanne. "Absent-minded as always." She remarked dryly, referring to Vicki.  
  
"Well, she's learning, at least." Jeanne commented as she stood up, hastily brushing off the dust on her white dress as she did so.  
  
"Yes, but..." The blonde nun gave her a look. "The offer still stands, Jeanne. You can still take up the vocation, if you want to. I have nothing against Vicki, personally," she paused. "...But I'd really rather have you."  
  
The silvery-blue haired maiden shook her head. "The vocation's not for me, Sister. I'm quite satisfied with serving as a volunteer missionary. I don't need to do anything else."  
  
"Well," Sister Sarah paused thoughtfully, "I respect your decision. But if you change your mind..."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"I wonder," The nun mused, "if the reason why you don't want to pledge yourself to the Lord completely...is that green-haired gentleman friend of yours?"  
  
Blushing slightly, Jeanne averted her eyes. It wasn't like she could say yes, he's the reason...but it wasn't like she could say no, either. "Since I was young, I've always known that I wasn't meant to be a member of the vocation." She replied, choosing her words carefully, "although my loyalties lie with God, I've always worked independently. Of course, Marco has always been by my side, but..." she shook her head. "I think it's just my heart leading me on...and it's not saying anything about me being a nun, so..." She shrugged.  
  
"Sister Sarah!" Sister Vicki's head appeared from the doorway of the other room. "We've given out everything! We're finished!" She added with a bright smile.  
  
"Splendid." Sister Sarah gracefully placed her silver writing pad on the table and smiled at her assistant. "Thank you, Sister Vicki. Listen..." she looked around thoughtfully. "Would you mind taking charge here for a little while? Jeanne and I will just be out for a couple of hours." She added, inclining her head at the silvery-blue-haired maiden.  
  
Sister Vicki looked surprised, but she nodded. "Yes. Alright." She looked over at Jeanne. "What should I tell Marco when he gets here?"  
  
"Tell him Jeanne and I went out for a walk. It's the truth, anyway." Sister Sarah replied. Then, turning to Jeanne, she said, "Well then...shall we go?"  
  
Jeanne frowned at her in confusion. "Go where?"  
  
Sister Sarah smiled. "Around Venice." She paused. "This is the first time I've ever been here. I've heard a lot about this city...and I wish to see with my very own eyes if it really is as beautiful as everyone says." She explained. "...I'm sure you do, too...am I right?"  
  
"Yes!" Jeanne nodded quickly, feeling a little excited. _The gondolas...I want to ride a gondola, and go around the Grand Canal..._ "I do." She could feel an eager smile forming on her face.  
  
"Good." Sister Sarah's bright blue eyes lit up. Tossing her long hair regally over her shoulder, she grinned at Jeanne. "Let's go, then."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Lyserg ran his eyes aimlessly around St. Mark's Square, searching for any sign of his two companions...without much success.   
  
He glanced at his watch. Four o'clock in the afternoon. He sighed. They were supposed to meet thirty minutes ago. He wondered what happened to the two of them.   
  
_Caesar probably got distracted by the sights and sounds,_ he thought with slight humor. _As for Luc...he...might be...interrogating the townspeople more than he should..._he frowned slightly. Luc could be very ruthless almost to the point of sadism--if and when he wanted to. Especially when he's searching for crucial information about their cases. He sighed again.  
  
Everyone in their division of the detective agency had a special ability they can call their own...like for example, Lyserg's colleagues knew that he could locate anything within the blink of an eye using his crystal pendulum. And then there was Caesar, who can sense people's feelings, Caesar's brother Albert, who can see the immediate future, and Luc, who can move objects with a wave of his hand...just to name a few. Cases which are way beyond the ordinary are their specialty, for they were the only group of people who can deal with that kind of thing and solve it firsthand with little effort.   
  
This particular case in Venice, for example, was somewhere along the lines of supernatural...although, if recent case developments were an indication, it promised to be difficult--which was why there were three of them working on it, instead of the usual two people per case, or sometimes, just one person.  
  
Anyway, Lyserg glanced at his watch once again, exhaling impatiently. Not wanting to waste his time dowsing for his friends' whereabouts, he produced a cell phone from his pocket and started dialing Caesar's number. As he waited for his friend to answer, he turned to Morphin on his shoulder and spoke to her in a low tone. "Search around for any sign of either Luc or Caesar, alright? They're late." The pink fairy spirit fluttered above his head and discreetly flew away to do as he asked.  
  
"Dammit, Caesar...why aren't you answering?" He muttered, frowning as he walked a couple of steps towards the center, near the water. He paced around the area, rolling his eyes as he hang up and started dialing Luc's number this time. He fought the urge to groan out loud as a busy tone reached his ear. "Who the HELL are you calling, Luc?" He sighed impatiently as he continued pacing around, looking up at the sky as he alternated dialing Caesar's and Luc's numbers again and again. He wondered if his two friends were making fun of him.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Jeanne walked around St Mark's Basilica, humming softly to herself as she gazed up at the magnificent church. She turned at the left corner, with the intention of heading straight towards where she was supposed to meet Sister Sarah. In all her excitement, the nun had somehow forgotten to bring the purse containing all her valuables--particularly, her rosary and prayer book--two things which she never goes anywhere without, with her. This happened while they were around six blocks and three boat rides from the missionary house, way over on the west side of the church. Sister Sarah had apologized to Jeanne and immediately set off back to the missionary house, calling over her shoulder to the silvery-blue haired maiden to meet her right around the central square.  
  
Jeanne continued to walk until she reached the area where the water of the Canal flowed widely and almost within reach. She looked over the glimmering surface, her eyes transfixed as a gondola passed by. The large, old-fashioned curved boat was a beautiful relic...one of the many things about Venice that had caught her attention ever since the first time she set foot on the city, three days ago.  
  
She wanted to ride on one of the gondolas badly, but Sister Sarah had advised her against it, saying that, aside from the fact that a ride costs about sixty pounds or so, it was a luxury only meant to be enjoyed by the rich and not by those who wish to lead plain and simple lives--like church missionaries. Like them.   
  
Jeanne had relented, but only barely. She didn't bring much money with her, but what she had could have very well paid for a 50-minute gondola ride. Now, upon seeing the magnificent vessel sailing by the water in front of her, she suddenly felt the extreme and overwhelming urge to ride one, despite Sister Sarah's advice. _After all,_ she thought to herself, _it was only an advice--a suggestion which is not meant to be heeded if one does not wish to._ She continued to stare at the passing gondola as she walked towards the central square, wondering if Sister Sarah would mind waiting while she went on a short ride...  
  
"OOFF!" Jeanne exclaimed as she somehow managed to walk straight into a person while her eyes wandered off. She fought to regain her composure. "I'm so sorry," she muttered a hasty apology, nodding at the person she bumped into.  
  
"I'm sorry, too. I wasn't looking. Are you alright, miss?" The said person was wearing a black hooded overcoat, and was quite tall. The person was also...male--and sounded like he was English.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," She replied, looking up at person to reassure him...  
  
...And found herself stunned and speechless when she realized who it was.  
  
"J...Jeanne?" Except for the fact that he was able to speak, the person was in much the same state as she, for the expression on his face mirrored her own. "What are you doing here?" He managed to ask, practically dropping the phone he was holding.

TSUZUKU.

**End notes:**  
  
Okay, so nothing happened._ Sorry...I gave the nuns and the detectives a chance to introduce themselves. I'll do better on the next chapter, I promise...watch out for the next chapter on FRIDAY!^_^  
  
"_Grazie_" means "thank you" in Italian.  
  
Updated October 2, 2003. Made a mistake with Lyserg, Luc and Caesar's meeting time. It's supposed to be half past three, not half past four. Gomen ne.^^;;;  
  
Yes, this is a prequel of sorts to their story in Celebrations.^^And yes, just as I don't own Lyserg and Jeanne, Neither do I own Sarah, Luc, Caesar, Vicki, or Albert. Konami does.  
  
Reviews will be very much appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2: Drenched

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.  
  
Note: Just in case it wasn't clear, Luc has light brown hair and Caesar has red hair. And yupyup, this happened right BEFORE Celebrations, **Kitsune**.^_^ And also...Marco is with them Venice. He wasn't stationed (and mummified^_~) in Egypt as of yet...that comes later.^_^

**Chapter 2 - Drenched  
**  
  
Heaving a small yawn, a red-haired Englishman in his early twenties scratched his head as he walked down the pavement, smiling cheerfully at the people he passed by along the way.   
  
Excitement. Happiness. Curiosity. Contentment.   
  
People's emotions swerved all around inside his heart, and he had no desire to block any of them out, however infectious and overwhelming they could get. Positive feelings were so hard to come by these days, and if he had to count on reading other people's emotions in order to get them, then so be it. It was better than nothing, at least. Better than what he often had within himself. Better than what his two other companions constantly carried within them.   
  
For example, Luc was always pretty much bitter, owing to his dissatisfaction with his own life, coupled with his constant angsting about his "abnormality," as he often termed telekinesis was. Truth be told, though...Luc just needed to loosen up. He needed to stop being so serious all the time. He needed to stop agonizing over his unfortunate fate ALL THE TIME. And honestly, in Caesar's opinion...Luc needed a life. He needed a GIRLFRIEND. Bad.  
  
Lyserg, on the other hand...had a lot of issues. Outside, he was almost always pleasant enough, all friendly and all smiles with everyone. Deep inside the green-haired Englishman, though, there was quite an entanglement of feelings, sometimes hovering on the brink of unfathomable. And the worst thing about it was, his web was composed of mostly negative feelings--sadness, anger, hate, bitterness, pain...and everything else in between. Even though outside, the green-haired Englishman was the ray of sunshine for the whole agency, consistently radiating happiness for everybody--he couldn't fool the empath.   
  
He can -never- fool the empath. Caesar could feel all the hurt inside him. There was so much pain inside his friend that sometimes he wondered how Lyserg could even bear it. But bear it he does...each and every day. And each and every day since the first time they met, Caesar felt all of his pain to the point that he knew he just had to set up his own emotional wall just so he wouldn't get carried away with all of Lyserg's feelings. Even with his shields put up, though...the pain was still there. It wouldn't leave. It will never leave.  
  
Briefly, Caesar wondered what events in his friend's life had led him to keep such kinds of emotions for so long. Although it was common knowledge that he had no family, Lyserg never shared in great detail any events of his past to anyone in the agency. No one really knew how his parents died. Not one of them knew what had happened to him after being orphaned. Caesar knew he could have delved deep inside his friend's mind, searched for the answers himself, but...curious as he was, he would never resort to such kind of invasion. Even if one was an empath, that kind of prying for information should never be used with friends--just with enemies and criminals.  
  
Caesar knew, though, that there was one other person, aside from Lyserg himself, who was privy to the more important events of the green-haired man's past. Strangely enough, this person was also a presence everyone in the agency--most particularly Caesar--always delighted to have. If Lyserg was the ray of sunshine, this person was the embodiment of sunlight, for she radiated cheerfulness, hope and happiness in her whole being. Of course, it didn't hurt that she was also extremely beautiful...but that's besides the point. Anyway, mostly, Caesar was always particularly relieved whenever she was around, because it was during those times when Lyserg's negative feelings were all completely replaced with positive ones. During those times, he didn't feel the need to put up his shields, for Lyserg's being glowed with complete, utter and total happiness...all because of her. Of Jeanne.  
  
To Lyserg, the silvery-blue-haired maiden was Jeanne. To everyone else in the agency, though...she was "Lyserg's girlfriend Jeanne." Although neither of the two denied it, they'd never quite admitted it either. Caesar wondered if they would ever get around to doing that. He was getting quite impatient, having to watch them give each other furtive looks all the time, be extremely polite with each other all the time, and get all awkward and flustered every time they greet each other hello or goodbye. The way they glanced at each other, the way they stared and smiled at each other, and worse, the EXTREMELY intense feelings that they emitted every time they were together--it was all enough to make this empath scream with impatience and annoyance. The feelings were SO strong, SO much, SO intense, that sometimes...  
  
Caesar stopped abruptly as he extended his empathy further.  
  
He could sense those feelings right now. In this place. _Where is this place...?_ He looked around him.  
  
_St Mark's Square._ THIS was the place where he was supposed to meet Lyserg and Luc. He glanced over his watch, mentally scolding himself for taking too long in tasting those cookies at the coffee shop. He just couldn't resist cookies. They were his life--especially the chocolate ones with cream on top and a little cup of hot cocoa to dip it all in...  
  
Yes, he had no doubt about it now...THESE were Lyserg's feelings.  
  
Lyserg's feelings...and one other. Hmm...  
  
Frowning suspiciously, Caesar walked a bit more towards the center of the square, bypassing his glance over the people around him, until his eyes spotted a familiar tuft of bright green hair.  
  
A green head of hair...and there was a familiar silvery-blue head beside it.  
  
Caesar could feel the grin spreading slowly across his face as he walked closer, very subtly, towards his friend...and his friend's oh-so-familiar companion.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"I...I was waiting for Sister Sarah..." Jeanne uttered in a very surprised murmur as she stood there, still staring at Lyserg disbelievingly.  
  
"I didn't mean THAT," Lyserg said dryly as he hastily picked up the cell phone which he had, indeed, managed to drop on the ground. "I meant...what are you doing in Venice?"  
  
"Shouldn't I be asking that?" Finally recovering, she threw back the question at him. Her eyes distractedly shifted towards the water again as another gondola floated past them.  
  
"I asked the question first, Jeanne." The green-haired Englishman pointed out, frowning at his cell phone. It would probably need quite a lot of fixing, if the fading LCD was any indication. He sighed, depositing the mobile in his pants pocket. Then, he turned back to her. "Don't tell me you're stationed here...?"  
  
"I am. I mean, Sister Sarah and I, and Marco and Sister Vicki and everyone else." She nodded vigorously, looking him over from head to toe, a slight smile forming on her face. No matter what he does, he never ceases to make her feel...somewhat happy. "We've been here for four days, counting today." She explained, holding her breath as another one of the magnificent boats passed them. She really needed to get a ride on one of those. She -would- get one, even if it kills her. "...And you?"  
  
Lyserg shrugged, smiling faintly. "Same thing. We actually just got here late last night, though." He followed Jeanne's gaze to the water, wondering what she was looking at. "Those gondolas are really something, aren't they?" He commented, his smile evolving into a pleasantly amused grin as he watched her extremely enthralled face. It was weird, how right before she appeared, he was on the verge of feeling annoyed at his two friends, and then, suddenly...one look at her and all of his irritation was completely erased. It was strange, the way she made him feel so...so light, like he was floating...  
  
"Yes," She murmured, her eyes completely transfixed as she continued to look in awe at the vessel in the water. "They're...beautiful..."  
  
And Lyserg had an idea. "Do you want to ride one?" He asked in a rush.  
  
Jeanne's head snapped back and she gazed at him, startled. "What? Oh..." Blushing slightly, she averted her eyes. "Y...yes. I mean, I do, but...Sister Sarah will be come along in a little while, and I'm supposed to wait for her..."   
  
"I'll pay for it," He offered with a smile.  
  
"What? No!" She shook her head vigorously. "I just found out how much it costs. I mean, sixty pounds for a person! Lyserg, that's--"  
  
"Expensive?" Lyserg interrupted dryly. "Not a problem." A grin.  
  
Jeanne couldn't help but smile back. "Still, we shouldn't waste such a hefty amount of money for just a mere luxury..." She murmured hesitantly.  
  
"Sixty is nothing compared to what we earn at the agency." A cheerful male voice proclaimed.  
  
"CAESAR?!?!?" Lyserg almost fell backwards as he glared at his friend, extremely startled. "How long have you been behind me?"  
  
Caesar watched with amusement as his fellow detective tried to gain back some semblance of his dignity, without much success. "About...three minutes." He announced, pointing his finger cheerfully at his watch. Turning to the silvery-blue haired maiden, he grinned. "Hello there, Miss Jeanne," he greeted with a small bow.  
  
"Good afternoon, Caesar," Jeanne greeted warmly in return. "Lyserg, I appreciate your offer, but..." She shook her head. "It's just too much."  
  
"Weren't you listening to what I said?" Caesar asked dryly. "Sixty is only a minute fraction of what we special detectives earn for each job. Isn't that right, Lyserg?" He raised an eyebrow, nudging his friend.  
  
"Yes it is." Regaining his balance, Lyserg coughed and glared once again at the red-haired man. "Where were you? I've been waiting for more than thirty minutes, and why the bloody hell weren't you answering your cell phone?" He demanded.  
  
"At a coffee shop three blocks from here. And my cell phone wasn't ringing." Caesar replied breezily, fumbling in his clothes for the electronic contraption. "It's not here...oh! I forgot!" He exclaimed. "I left it in my hotel room because BOSS Luc was in such a big hurry," he added sarcastically.  
  
"Hmph." Lyserg rolled his eyes. "You and coffee shops. Honestly, you remind me so much of this Japanese friend of mine who loves sweets," he shook his head. "Anyway, just be thankful Luc isn't here yet. Your paycheck won't be cut down."  
  
"Glory Hallelujah," Caesar muttered under his breath. "HE should get his paycheck cut down--not that it's ever going to happen." He sighed. "Anyway," He grinned brightly, glancing back and forth in between Lyserg and Jeanne, "I didn't realize you two were having a rendezvous."  
  
At this, the pair simultaneously looked away and blushed. "We weren't!" They said defensively, in unison.  
  
"Yeah. Right." Caesar said knowingly. "Ah, hell. It's your business, anyway." He smiled sweetly. "Getting back to the subject...like I told you earlier, Miss Jeanne," He said with air, "We special detectives earn quite more than sixty per job. A LOT more, believe me." He added emphatically. "So...it wouldn't much matter if Lyserg spends even six times sixty pounds. He'll get that back in a month or so. And besides..." he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he thinks it would all be worth it if it's you...right?" He nudged Lyserg once again.  
  
"Yes, definitely!" Lyserg nodded vigorously. Then, upon realizing what he just agreed to, he blushed with slight embarrassment. "I...I mean, money's no big deal at all..." He added lamely, shrugging at his own stupidity.  
  
"Well..." Jeanne still looked a bit hesitant. "...I should wait for Sister Sarah first," she decided. "I'm certain she wouldn't mind, but we were supposed to tour the rest of the city together..."  
  
"What time were you supposed to meet?" Lyserg wanted to know.  
  
"Right about now, I believe," She replied, frowning slightly as she looked around for any sign of the silvery-golden haired nun. "I wonder what's taking her so long..."   
  
"I wonder what's taking Luc so long," Lyserg muttered, his eyes wandering aimlessly, searching for that familiar light-brown head. "He was the one who specifically asked us to get here on the dot. And where is he? Huh, Caesar?" He demanded.  
  
Caesar gave him a broad grin. "Over there. Look." He pointed his finger towards the direction of St. Mark's Basilica, where a familiar tall figure in a forest green trench coat was walking towards them.  
  
Jeanne's eyes brightened. "Sister Sarah!" She waved slightly as the nun approached.  
  
"Wait a minute...THAT'S Sister Sarah?" Caesar exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes practically falling out of his head as he stared at the beautiful lady...no, nun, who was beside Luc. Talking to Luc. Talking a mile a minute to Luc.  
  
...And Luc was answering back. Luc was replying animatedly. Luc was talking to a WOMAN.  
  
A nun, yes. But still...a woman.  
  
"Again, I am SO sorry about what happened with your phone..." Sister Sarah was saying.  
  
"Like I've said quite a number of times, it wasn't your fault. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," Luc was explaining as he walked towards Lyserg and Caesar upon spotting them. "I almost dropped your purse into the water. If anyone should be sorry, it should be me."  
  
A sigh. "But still...your phone. It would be very expensive to have that repaired, " The nun countered quietly. "...And I wasn't paying attention to where I was going either," she added.  
  
Luc shook his head. "Money is no big deal at all," he informed her. "Believe me, it's NOT," he insisted upon seeing the doubtful look on the silvery-blonde haired woman's face. He then turned to his two companions, raising an eyebrow. "What?"  
  
"You're late, Luc." Was Lyserg's curt reply. He shifted his gaze to the nun. "Good afternoon, Sister."  
  
Sister Sarah smiled brightly at him. "Hello, Lyserg. I see you and Jeanne have bumped into each other already," she remarked meaningfully. "And good afternoon to you too, uhm..." she gave Caesar a questioning look.  
  
"Caesar. Caesar Silverberg," Was the cheerful answer. Turning back to Luc, he grinned. "Guess you're going to get your paycheck cut down, huh?"  
  
"Shut UP." Luc shot back with irritation. "Jeanne," he greeted, nodding his head briefly at the silvery-blue haired maiden, who smiled at him in acknowledgment. "Lyserg...don't tell me YOU were meeting HER here?"  
  
"I wasn't!" Lyserg said defensively. "I just managed to bump into her, that's all. Everything's just a mere coincidence."  
  
A snort. "I'm sure," Luc remarked dryly. "What are YOU looking at?" He glared upon noticing Caesar glance back and forth again and again between him and the nun.  
  
"Nothing..." Caesar replied innocently.   
  
"Good." Luc muttered.  
  
"...Except that the two of you look quite good together," Caesar grinned cheekily, obviously referring to Luc and Sister Sarah. "Just like Jeanne and Lyserg here," he added, sending the aforementioned pair into another blushing fit.  
  
Luc glanced at Lyserg and Jeanne with slight amusement before he turned back to Caesar and frowned darkly. "What is THAT supposed to mean?"  
  
"Figure it out." Caesar smiled sweetly.  
  
Fully recovered from his blushing, Lyserg exhaled. "Don't start with this again, you two," he warned his two fellow detectives. "Where did you and Sister Sarah meet each other, anyway?" He asked Luc.  
  
The person being addressed glared one last time at his offender before turning to Lyserg. "Around two blocks from here. I was talking to Albert on the phone and I didn't see her coming." He explained. "By the time I realized, it was too late." A sigh. "Good thing I managed to uhm..." He coughed, "...her purse. I ended up dropping my phone in the process, so..." he shrugged.  
  
"I still don't understand how you managed to get my purse from the water. I mean, I was so certain that it fell in..." Sister Sarah murmured.  
  
Jeanne, who had also recovered from her blushing, exchanged a brief knowing look with Lyserg. "Let's just be thankful that he somehow managed to save it in the nick of time, Sister," She told her superior with a smile.  
  
"...Yes. You're right," Sister Sarah agreed. "Thank you so much, uhm...what was your name again?" She smiled apologetically at the light-brown haired Englishman.  
  
"Luc Hikusaak. And you're welcome," Smiling brightly, Luc took the nun's hand in both of his and shook it politely.  
  
"Luc." The nun repeated, an odd expression crossing over her face as she stared at her hand, which the detective refused to let go of even long after the handshake. "T...thank you, and again, I'm really sorry about your phone..." she managed in a small whisper.  
  
He shook his head. "Like I've told you a number of times, you have nothing to feel sorry about." He stayed like that, gazing at the nun and holding her hand for several more minutes without even realizing what he was doing.  
  
"Uh...Luc?" Jeanne asked tentatively.  
  
"Yeah?" He shifted his eyes briefly.  
  
"You can let go of Sister Sarah's hand now," Jeanne said helpfully, amusement lacing her voice.  
  
"What...? Oh!" Extremely startled, Luc dropped the fair nun's hand like a hot potato. He turned his back and fought away the redness that threatened to stain his cheeks. "I...I apologize." he said quietly.  
  
"It's...it's fine," The nun assured, barely above a whisper. She shook her head, sighing softly as she turned to Jeanne. "I think I'll go on ahead back to the missionary house. I feel a little warm. I might be coming down with something..." She tapped her slightly flushed cheeks gently. "I trust you'll be alright here. Lyserg, just make sure she gets back before nightfall, please."  
  
"Yes, I will." Lyserg nodded reassuringly.   
  
Jeanne frowned. "But Sister Sarah, I thought you said we were going to go around the city a little bit more..."   
  
Sister Sarah smiled faintly. "Right now, I don't think I'm up to it." She took a deep breath and managed a smile in both Caesar and Luc's directions. "It was very nice meeting you both. I hope we see each other again soon," she added, nodding briefly before turning around. "Goodbye!" She called out over her shoulder with a wave, walking as fast as her legs could carry her.  
  
"I'll be back tonight, Sister!" Jeanne called back as she gave a slight wave.  
  
"So...does this mean you're taking me up on my offer?" Lyserg asked Jeanne, eyebrow slightly raised.  
  
"I certainly am." She answered with an eager nod. "Yes."  
  
Lyserg grinned. "Great!" He turned to his fellow detectives. "Would you mind waiting for me? This'll only take about an hour."  
  
Caesar rolled his eyes as wave after wave of his friend's happiness came over him. "Take your time," he said dismissively. "I'm going back to the hotel. I don't think either one of you will be up to doing a little more investigation, from the looks of it," he glanced meaningfully at Luc, who was still staring off deeply at the direction Sister Sarah disappeared to. "Anyway, you and Miss Jeanne have fun," he added with a knowing grin.  
  
"Luc?" Lyserg waved his hand in front of the other man's face.  
  
"Yeah?" Luc's head snapped back and he gazed at his friend blankly. "What?"  
  
Exhaling impatiently, Caesar pulled on Luc's coat. "Let's get back to the hotel, boss." He started to walk away. "We'll meet you there, Lyserg. See you, Miss Jeanne!" He yelled out with a wave as he dragged the other man by the neck of his dark green trench coat.  
  
"What the F**K! Let go of me this INSTANT, Silverberg!" Luc protested loudly as he struggled out of the red-haired detective's grasp. "I need to go somewhere..."  
  
Caesar held on tightly to the other man and wouldn't let go. "Yes, you do. You need to go back to the hotel so you can cool off before you go after Sister Sarah." He said dryly, tugging Luc's coat forcefully.   
  
"WHAT? I am NOT going after HER! She's a NUN, for crying out LOUD!"  
  
"Right, right. If you say so..."  
  
"Aaargh! Let me GO, Silverberg!"  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes in exasperation at his two friends. "I'll see you both back at the hotel!" He called out. Then, turning to Jeanne, he smiled faintly. "I'm sorry. They're just..." his voice trailed off as he shrugged helplessly. "Those two will never learn."  
  
Jeanne chuckled. "Don't apologize for them. I think it's kind of funny..." she smiled. "Besides, I believe this is the first time I've ever seen Sister Sarah look so embarrassed right after being introduced to a man. Luc's had quite an impact on her, it seems."   
  
"Luc has an impact on every woman he meets," Lyserg replied dryly. "Although none of them has ever affected him quite as much as Sister Sarah obviously has." He added.  
  
"Hmm...a nun and a detective...it's like a novel of some sort..." She mused, sighing. "Just like the gondolas..." she added in a murmur as another one sailed right past them.  
  
"Speaking of the gondolas..." Lyserg began brightly, "shall we go on that ride?" He held out his hand graciously.  
  
Jeanne smiled cordially as she accepted his hand. "Yes, of course."

*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm going back to the missionary house," Jeanne told her companion as she sneezed, pulling Lyserg's black hooded overcoat tighter around her as she walked.  
  
"No, you're not," Lyserg countered as he shook off the rain from his hair and walked briskly beside her. "You're wet. We're going back to the hotel where I'm staying. It's nearer." He said firmly. "Morphin, set up a makeshift umbrella or something, please?" He told his power spirit, who cheerfully obliged to the request. Although the makeshift furyoku umbrella did wonders to shield them from the harsh storm, it didn't do anything much to assuage the wetness of their clothing.  
  
"Lyserg..." She turned around and frowned at him. "I HAVE to go back to the missionary house. Marco will be waiting for me."  
  
"You need dry clothes," He pointed out. "My overcoat's not going to be much help any longer, since you're very wet. We need to get you to the nearest shelter, and your missionary house is at the very end of the west side." He added. "I don't want you to get sick."  
  
"I WON'T get sick," Jeanne replied with determination. "I have a very strong immune system and I'm sure I...AAACHHOOO!" She sneezed for the second time that afternoon--or night, as the case already was.  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes heavenward as he pulled out a semi-dry handkerchief from his pocket. "Here."  
  
"Thanks." She took it gratefully from him and sneezed again.  
  
"Strong immune system, huh?" He commented with slight amusement.  
  
She gave him a look. "Just take me back to the missionary house, Lyserg. Please?"  
  
He shook his head. "Not in this rain. We can't possibly travel that far. I'm taking you to the hotel," He insisted.  
  
Jeanne exhaled impatiently. "Lyserg--"  
  
"Jeanne." He gave her a warning look. Tipping her chin up, he leveled her gaze with his. "Don't argue with me." He swept the hair out of her face. "Alright?"  
  
An indrawn breath. "Alright." She managed, trying to calm her heartbeat, which was going a mile a minute...and had everything to do with the fact that he was touching her. And that they were so close.  
  
And that his face was merely inches away from hers...  
  
"Good." Lyserg smiled with satisfaction, perfectly aware of the fact that he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her...and this began ever since they had set foot inside that gondola and sailed around the Grand Canal. He tucked one last strand of hair behind her ear and reluctantly pulled away. "Let's hurry." He muttered, reaching for her hand and clasping it against his as they continued to walk briskly towards the hotel, which was only about two blocks farther away from where they were.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Sit on the bed, near the warming pan," Lyserg instructed. "...And don't worry about getting it wet or anything. You need to dry up. I'll be right back." He smiled at her briefly before he exited through the door.  
  
"Lyserg, wait! You're wet too, and you haven't changed your clothes yet..." Jeanne's voice trailed off as she realized that he probably couldn't hear her, anyway. Sighing, she straightened out her hair and took off the black overcoat, setting it beside the warming pan as she sat down on his bed. She smoothed out her soaking-wet hair with her fingers as she surveyed her surroundings.  
  
She looked up tentatively at the clock above the door. A quarter past seven in the evening. She sighed again. Marco and Sister Sarah and everyone else are probably worried by now. She wasn't supposed to be gone this long, and this late. More importantly, she wasn't supposed to be with Lyserg, and most -definitely- not in his hotel room.  
  
_Oh, well._ Jeanne shrugged, smiling slightly to herself. Meeting him here was more of a shock than a coincidence...but it's a -wonderful- kind of shock, anyway...  
  
"Hi!" Lyserg's head popped in through the doorway. "I just called the missionary house...Sister Vicki said Sister Sarah wasn't there," he gave her a curious look. "She hasn't come back since you two left earlier this afternoon. As for Marco-san," he winced slightly upon mentioning the name, "Sister Vicki said he called to say that he'll be back by ten o'clock tonight."   
  
Jeanne nodded gratefully. "That's good. Thank you for calling them."  
  
He smiled brightly. "You're welcome. Anyway..." he gazed at her critically from head to toe, thinking. "I asked the laundry service if they could possibly get your clothes cleaned up as fast as possible...and they said they'll try their best." He paused, hesitantly. "So uhm...Jeanne," he began, "I need you to do something."  
  
"What is it?" She looked at him questioningly.  
  
He took a deep breath. "...I need you to take off your clothes."

TSUZUKU.

**End notes:  
**  
Um...ehehehe.^^;;; Chapter 3 coming up next week!^_^  
  
I didn't want to sound like a broken record, so I skipped the whole falling scene.^^;;; Anyways, if you've forgotten that part, you can always check back Celebrations [Chapter 5: Thoughts and Feelings], ne?  
  
Reviews...please? I need to know if I'm still going to continue this or not (although I probably will, no matter what happens...).^_^


	3. Chapter 3: No Vacancies

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.  
  
Note: Someone's making a guest appearance here...guess who.^_~

**Chapter 3 - No Vacancies  
**  
  
"...I need you to take off your clothes."  
  
Jeanne almost fell from the bed. "W...what? My...my clothes?" She whispered, gazing at him with an incredibly astounded look on her face.  
  
Lyserg sighed helplessly as he went inside the room and closed the door. "You know what I mean," he said wearily, sitting on top of the bed beside her and removing his wet boots and socks, placing them near the warming pan, adjacent to his black hooded overcoat, which was now drying very nicely. "I can't possibly send you back to missionary house looking soiled and dirty and damp. Heaven only knows what Marco-san will think might have happened to you."  
  
"O...oh." Jeanne inhaled deeply several times as the impact of what he had said finally sunk in. What did she think he was asking her to do, anyway? It wasn't like -he- would be asking her to take off her clothes for some other reason...right?  
  
So...why in the name of Jesus, Mary and Joseph was she blushing so hard?  
  
"Uhm...Lyserg...you really don't have to do this," She began slowly, rising up and turning away so that he wouldn't see how red her cheeks were. Darn it, the heat on her face would probably be enough to dry up most of her clothes, even her undergarments...she stopped short at that thought and felt her cheeks flaming even more.  
  
_Undergarments.  
_  
"L...Lyserg?" Her voice was shaky. Why in the world was her voice so incredibly shaky?  
  
"Jeanne?" Lyserg frowned, looking up at her as he loosened his soaking-wet white shirt. "What is it?" He stood up and walked towards the closet, opening it and searching for something. "What's the matter?" He asked, his voice muffled as he changed into a fresh white polo shirt from behind the closet door.  
  
"U...uhm..." Jeanne fought the urge to look behind the closet door and watch him take off his clothes. _You shouldn't be thinking of such things, Jeanne. That's not right. That's immoral. And besides, this is Lyserg--and that's right at number one on the top ten reasons as to why shouldn't even be thinking of watching him take off his clothes...because he's Lyserg._ "Y...your clothes. I mean, my clothes...uhm...do I have to...do I have to...take them all off?" She asked hesitantly.  
  
BANG! From behind the door, she heard a slight groan. And then, a subsequent, "Ouch."  
  
"Lyserg?" Gathering up her courage, she moved to take a peek behind the closet door. "Are you alright?"  
  
But before she could move in closer, the closet door slammed shut and Lyserg's face popped out, curled up in a grimace, his right hand rubbing his forehead. "I'm fine. I just managed to hit my head on the door, that's all. It's no big deal," he told her reassuringly.  
  
The silvery-blue haired maiden gazed at his forehead critically. "...Okay," she said at last.  
  
"Anyway...what is it you were asking again?" He inquired as he stepped into the bathroom, took a towel, and began to dry his hair.  
  
"My undergarments." She replied before she could stop herself.  
  
Lyserg dropped the towel on the floor, and as he was picking it up, he managed to hit his head on the bathroom doorknob. "OUCH!" He exclaimed, frowning at the aforesaid offender. "What about them?" He asked, trying to sound as casual as possible, although there was a slight pink blush staining his cheeks.  
  
Jeanne could no longer look at him straight in the eye, so she focused her gaze on the clock above the door. "I mean," She took a deep breath, visibly relieved that most of the redness on her cheeks has subsided, "I haven't got anything to wear here. Do I really have to take it all off?"  
  
"Yes." He said quickly. "I mean...I'm not about to allow you to get sick, and you certainly will, if you leave anything wet on." He added at once upon realizing the incredibly immoral connotation of his initial answer. "Don't worry about the clothes. You can..." he paused, thinking, "you can borrow one of my shirts and trousers. And my dressing robe, too," he added.  
  
She turned away from the clock and forced herself to look at him without getting embarrassed or blushing..._there_. She was managing just fine. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Uh-hm." He smiled faintly.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Jeanne," He exhaled, "We're wasting precious time...not to mention prolonging the risks of you getting sick," he said sternly. "Go to the bathroom right now and change." He instructed firmly. He went back to the closet and pulled out a pair of trousers and a shirt, and his dressing robe. "Here."  
  
She took the clothes gratefully, smiling up at him. "Thank you." She rose on tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek.  
  
An indrawn breath. "...You're welcome," he managed to say in a slightly husky tone of voice. "Now go."

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Lyserg!"  
  
"Caesar," The green-haired Englishman stopped at the foot of the stairs and greeted his fellow detective. He had just brought his and Jeanne's wet clothing to the laundry room and was now on his way back up to his own room. Of course, he could have asked room service to deliver their wet clothes to the laundry for them, but...let's just say Lyserg had a thing for personalism. "Where'd you come from?"  
  
Caesar frowned. "I was searching for Luc," he explained. "He ran off and shoved me away before we reached the hotel. I don't know where he is." He rolled his eyes. "He can NEVER take a joke. It's not like I meant what I said about that thing between him and that nun! I -know- he would never run after her..." He sighed. "Anyway...have you seen him, perchance?"  
  
Lyserg shrugged. "No. But I haven't checked his room yet. We could ask at the reception area," he suggested.  
  
"Nah." The red-haired detective grinned. "Let's just go to his room. That way, he'll get the shock of his life when he sees us lying on his bed," he added evilly.  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes as he and Caesar trudged up the stairs towards the second floor elevator. "You just LOVE annoying him don't you?"  
  
"Yep." Caesar answered cheerfully. "And he LOVES afflicting minor physical injuries on my beautiful body. We're even in that sense." He added breezily.  
  
A sigh. "...I don't know what I'm supposed to do with the two of you," Lyserg shook his head helplessly as the elevator brought them to their floor.  
  
"You aren't supposed to do anything. You just sit back, relax, and let us fight it off until we're tired or until we die. Let's see..." Caesar mused as they stopped by room 601. "Boss Luc -never- locks his hotel room door...ah! There! See!" He swung the doorknob and the door opened without any protest. "The boss leaves his AURA to protect everything he owns--OUCH!"   
  
Lyserg gazed up at the ceiling in exasperation as Caesar was thrown from the door towards the wall outside with a loud slam. "...Luc. I should have known you were here already," he commented, raising an eyebrow at the light brown haired Englishman.  
  
Luc glared at him as he closed the bathroom door quickly. "What the bloody freaking HELL are you two doing, trespassing into my room without MY permission?" He demanded.  
  
"We WEREN'T trespassing!" Caesar protested, groaning as he got up and rubbed his back.  
  
"Oh?" Luc said coolly, raising a dark eyebrow. "Then what the HELL were you DOING?"  
  
Caesar smiled sweetly. "Welcoming you." He peered inside the room. "...Are you hiding something?" He sniffed and felt around suspiciously.  
  
Luc slammed his fist against the door and glared at him. Hard. "I am NOT hiding ANYTHING, dammit!" The clock at the top of the door slid downwards and would have crashed to the floor if he hadn't summoned it towards the bed with a hasty flick of his hand.  
  
"Really?" The redhead looked doubtful.  
  
Luc exhaled. "Yes, REALLY, dammit!" He waved his hand into the air, causing the windows to open. "WHAT? You think I'm LYING?"  
  
Caesar shrugged. "I don't know. YOU tell me." He emphasized.  
  
The four poster bed rattled. "Why YOU--" Luc snarled and made a move to throw Caesar against the wall again, but luckily, Lyserg managed to stop his friend's hand in the nick of time.  
  
"Stop it, BOTH of you." He said firmly, giving his two detective friends a warning look. "Caesar, get inside the room. Luc, calm DOWN, for crying out LOUD." He exclaimed impatiently.  
  
Luc pulled his hand forcefully out of Lyserg's grasp and sat down on the bed, still glaring at Caesar. The other man entered the room grudgingly and leaned against the wall, glancing suspiciously at the bathroom door.  
  
Lyserg closed the door and sat down on the chair beside the vanity table. "...Where were you, Luc?" He asked. "Caesar said you ran off."  
  
Luc continued to glare at Caesar. "I was around," he replied curtly. "I didn't appreciate being dragged away by the neck of my trench coat, so I went somewhere else." He paused. "Some place where HE," he inclined his head at the redhead, "is nowhere NEAR."  
  
Caesar rolled his eyes. "Like the missionary house at the west area, perhaps?"  
  
"I DIDN'T go THERE!"  
  
"Right."  
  
"I really DIDN'T, dammit!"  
  
"Then where WERE you?"  
  
"WILL YOU GUYS SHUT THE FREAKING BLOODY HELL UP?" Losing it, Lyserg finally yelled. Taking several deep breaths, he spoke again. "...Alright," he was still feeling pretty annoyed. "You don't have to tell us where you went." He told Luc.  
  
"He DOESN'T need to tell us. I KNOW where he went," Caesar said triumphantly. "And I KNOW you're hiding something--or some_one_--inside that bathroom. I KNOW it."  
  
"Caesar..." Lyserg gave his friend a look. "It's not our business."  
  
"Yes, damn freaking right it's NOT!" Luc agreed, still continuously glaring at the redhead. "Whoever I have in MY bathroom is NONE of your DAMN business!"  
  
"So...you DO have someone in your bathroom?" Lyserg gazed at him curiously.   
  
"Yes, I do believe he does." Caesar grinned wickedly at Luc. "And I think I KNOW who it is--" He stopped short as a knock sounded on the door.  
  
"Excuse me," A familiar female voice spoke. "...Luc? It's Jeanne. By any chance, is Lyserg there?"  
  
Luc narrowed his eyes at the door, and then, at Lyserg. "How the hell did that girlfriend of yours find out where my hotel room was? And what the bloody hell is she doing here, anyway?" He demanded as he rose up and walked towards the door. Instead of opening though, he leaned against it and gave his friend an expectant look.  
  
The green-haired Englishman blushed slightly, turning away from his two companions. "Well...uhm," he began, "We uh...we fell into the Grand Canal and she uhm--"  
  
"She got wet, you got wet, and you brought her to your hotel so she could dry her clothes?" Caesar interrupted with a grin.  
  
Lyserg flashed him a look. "...Yes. You read my mind. Why am I not surprised?" He muttered dryly.  
  
"I'm an empath." The redhead answered matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.  
  
"Luc?" Jeanne's voice sounded again, coupled with another knock. "Are you there?"  
  
Luc rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Yes. Just a second." He swung the door open...and his eyes almost fell off his head as he looked at the young woman outside. "What in the WORLD are you wearing?"  
  
Jeanne blushed as she peeked inside the room. "...Lyserg!" She tugged up the neck of the robe and tightened the belt self-consciously. "How are my clothes doing?"  
  
Lyserg ignored his embarrassment and smiled at her. "I've already brought them to the laundry. Speaking of which--"  
  
"Wait a freaking second...are THESE your CLOTHES, Lyserg?" Caesar interrupted as he stood up and walked around the silvery-blue haired young woman, surveying her critically.  
  
"Yes." Jeanne nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing as the red-haired detective continued to walk around her. "He let me borrow them." She frowned up at him. "Stop that, please."  
  
The redhead paused at her front, gauging her from head to toe. "Lyserg, you immoral git," he scolded, pointing at Jeanne. "...Take a look at that! It's...it's...it's PLUNGING!"  
  
"WHAT?" Lyserg looked horrified. He stood up and gazed at the young woman briefly, before turning and glaring at Caesar. "It is NOT. My clothes just happen to be a little loose and long on her, that's ALL. It's not like I can do anything about it--"  
  
"Yes you can," Caesar interrupted. "You can give her more decent clothing." He continued to stare at Jeanne incredulously.  
  
She gave him another frown as she held the bodice of the robe up. "My clothes are in the laundry." She informed him, turning away and standing behind Lyserg. "STOP STARING AT ME."  
  
"DAMMIT, Caesar." Lyserg exhaled impatiently as he wrapped an arm protectively around Jeanne, securing his dressing robe snugly about her. "Quit interrogating us about the CLOTHES, for GOD'S sake." He slapped his hand squarely on top of the other man's face.  
  
"Ouch." Caesar groaned. "Alright, I'm sorry," he said grudgingly. "I won't ask anymore about the clothes. Miss Jeanne, I apologize." He bowed his head sincerely.  
  
"Apology accepted." Jeanne said softly, with a small smile.  
  
Luc grunted beside them. "Yeah, that's right," he said sarcastically as soon as he had their attention, "apologize to HER. You don't even have the decency to apologize to ME. That's SOME NERVE you got, Silverberg."  
  
Caesar glared. "And what is THAT supposed to MEAN?" He retorted hotly.  
  
Luc smirked. "Figure it out. You're SMART enough. At least, I HOPE so." He added smugly.  
  
"Go to HELL, Luc."  
  
"If I GO, I'll take you with me." Luc threw back triumphantly. Then, he stood beside the open door and gave all of them a look. "Lyserg, you and Jeanne have dinner. We can talk about the case tomorrow. As for you, Silverberg..." he said to the other man pointedly, "...you need to get out of here NOW, before I black out and start throwing you around my room."  
  
Caesar snorted. "Thanks for the warning," he said with mild sarcasm as he strutted out of the room purposely to annoy Luc. He passed by Lyserg and Jeanne and flashed them a wink. "Don't stay up too late, you two." He grinned mischievously as he headed towards his own room. "I'll see you in the morning!" He called out over his shoulder.  
  
"UNFORTUNATELY!" Luc called back.  
  
"Aren't you going to have dinner with us, Luc?" Jeanne asked.  
  
The person being addressed shook his head. "I've already eaten an early dinner with...uhm," he coughed, his cheeks going slightly pink. "Thanks anyway." He patted Lyserg's back as he pushed the both of them out of his room. "Not to be rude or anything, but...I'm a little tired. So would you mind going away?"  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes to the ceiling as he pulled Jeanne outside along with him. "No, of course we don't," he replied dryly. "Goodnight, Luc. And goodnight to whoever is in your bathroom," he added with a slightly teasing smile.  
  
"Hmph." Luc huffed. "Goodnight." He nodded briefly at Jeanne before he closed the door.  
  
"Goodnight, Luc!" Jeanne called out to the closed door.  
  
The two of them stayed outside the door for several minutes, listening in to the voices inside the room.  
  
"...You can come out now." Luc's voice, followed by a soft knock...on the bathroom door, Lyserg guessed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they were going to come in like that, and...we could have just told them, you know. Lyserg would have understood. I mean, he's got Jeanne with him...you heard them, right?"  
  
A sigh. "...Yes. I did." Jeanne's eyes widened as she heard the very familiar voice of her superior. "I'm sorry I'm causing you so much trouble..."  
  
"No trouble at all. I don't mind having you around. As soon as the rain stops, I'll take you back to the missionary house. Until then, you're free to stay here." Luc paused. "Or I can pay a separate room for you. It's not much--"  
  
"No, no. Definitely NOT. I'm being too much of a bother to you as it is. There is no need for unnecessary expenses. The rain should stop soon." Sister Sarah's voice sounded extremely hopeful.  
  
"...Alright then," Luc's voice sounded again, with finality. "I'm sure it will stop soon..." his voice trailed off as Lyserg and Jeanne walked away and headed towards Lyserg's room.  
  
"So...THAT'S why she's not at the missionary house yet," Jeanne mused. "All this time...she was with Luc."  
  
"I told you she had quite an effect on him." Lyserg reminded her with a smile.  
  
"Yes. You did." She smiled back. "...And the feeling's mutual, it seems." 

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Anyway...the lady said that because of the rain and everything, the earliest we'll be able to get our clothes is possibly sometime tomorrow morning," Lyserg flashed her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's fine." With a sigh, Jeanne walked towards the window, where the rain was still continually falling in large splashes against the enclosed glass. "Dear Lord...when is this going to stop?" She muttered, staring up in dismay at the large storm clouds looming in the sky.  
  
He walked up beside her and stared out as well. "So uhm...we have one other problem left right now."  
  
She turned her head. "You mean we don't have enough problems as it is?" A faint smile.  
  
Lyserg chuckled, moving closer and stroking her hair fondly with his fingers. _ Damn it, Lyserg. Don't start with this again. You're touching her again. Stop it, stop it, STOP IT! Aarghh...she just feels so damn good against my hands...and my clothes...my clothes fit her very, very nicely..._he paused at that. _Damn...Caesar was right. You really are an immoral git._ "Don't think like that," he managed to say in a soft murmur as he continued to touch her. "I mean...being here with me...do you really honestly believe it's bad?"  
  
Jeanne shook her head, sighing once again as he continued his tender ministrations. "I didn't say that." She whispered. "What I meant was...it might be a problem for you. You're supposed to be working and I--" She paused abruptly as he pressed a silencing finger against her lips.  
  
"It's not a problem for me," he assured. "So don't think that you're being a burden to me because believe me, you're NOT. Falling over at the Canal...that was my fault, NOT yours. And DON'T even try arguing with me on that score," he added sternly upon seeing a look of protest flash over her face. "...I was the one who invited you, remember? Therefore, all the consequences of what happened are MY responsibility." He straightened the frown away from her face with his hands. "Alright?"  
  
She managed a weak nod. "Alright." She agreed, albeit reluctantly. "So...what was that problem you were talking about earlier?"  
  
"It's not really a problem. It's just that...if you're going to wait for your clothes...and I'm sure you want to wait," he told her dryly, "...we're going to have to get you a room where you can stay for the night. Here." He added referring to the hotel, while striding across the room towards the vanity table, where his valuables were kept inside the drawer. "Let's see...a room like this one would cost about--"  
  
"Lyserg," Jeanne interrupted. "It's not necessary to book a room for me. I'm sure the rain will stop soon and my clothes...I can just get my clothes tomorrow."  
  
"No."  
  
"No?" She frowned. "Why not?"  
  
Lyserg gave her a look. "You're wearing my clothes." He said simply.  
  
"And...?"   
  
He sighed. "I can just imagine what Marco-san will say if he sees you wearing THOSE." He winced slightly. "He'll find out that you were with me...and he'll be after my blood, for sure."  
  
"Oh." She sat down on the four poster bed and directed a frown at her feet. She was wearing the hotel's slippers. "Marco...I forgot about him." Her frown deepened. "He'll probably be asking for me when he gets back to the missionary house." She exhaled, thinking. "...Alright, you win. I'm staying in this hotel for the night. On one condition."  
  
He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"  
  
"I'm paying for my own room."   
  
"No." He immediately shook his head. "You're not. I'm paying."  
  
Jeanne flashed him a look. "I'm PAYING for my room, and you CAN'T stop me."  
  
"Yes, I CAN." He countered.  
  
She gave an impatient sigh. "Lyserg--"  
  
"Jeanne." He sat down beside her on the bed and placed his hand on top of her head. "Remember what I said about responsibility?"  
  
"Yes." She gazed at him without flinching. "This has NOTHING to do with that."  
  
"This has EVERYTHING to do with that," He contradicted. "So, stop arguing with me, and let me pay for that room."  
  
"Half."  
  
"Half?"  
  
"Compromise." She smiled. "Since you still insist on paying no matter what I say, then allow me to pay half. That way, you can still fulfill your so-called responsibility." She gave him a meaningful look--a look that left no room for argument.  
  
"Alright, alright. You win." He stood up, sighing with resignation. "I'm going downstairs to book you that room. You can pay me the half later," he added quickly. "I'll be right back." He swung open the door and got out, smiling at her as he closed it.  
  
A few minutes later, as Jeanne was finishing up tidying what little clutter there was in the room, the door opened, and in came a very disgruntled-looking Lyserg. "Did something happen?"  
  
The green-haired detective shook his head, a deep frown etched over his whole face. "The receptionist said there were no more room vacancies. Everything's been filled up since late this afternoon."  
  
"WHAT?" She stood up and gazed at him with shock. "No more vacancies? Then...where am I supposed to sleep?" She wondered out loud in dismay.  
  
Lyserg shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I'm really sorry about this, Jeanne. It's really strange," he thought darkly. "Just earlier today there were a LOT of room vacancies. There aren't too many tourists around Venice at this time of the year, and this hotel getting filled up on a short notice..." he shook his head. "It's...very weird, to say the least."  
  
He sighed when she didn't answer and just resumed staring out the window with a frown. "Anyway...we have to think about where you can stay. If there's no other room available, then we'll have to get you to...I'VE GOT IT!" He shouted suddenly.  
  
"What?" Jeanne glanced at him, startled. "What have you got?"  
  
"You can stay here, Jeanne. In my room," he suggested with a smile. "You can sleep in my bed. I mean, you know...without me." He added quickly. "...I'll just sleep on the couch...or in Caesar's room. Anyway, the important thing is that you have a room for the night now."  
  
Jeanne was quiet for while. She frowned at the bed, then at the closet, then at the clock, then at the windows...and finally, at him. "I can't do that. I'll be depriving you of your room, that's...that's...not....right..."  
  
Lyserg shook his head. "You won't be depriving me of anything, Jeanne." He reassured her. "You WON'T," He emphasized upon seeing the hesitation on her face. "I'm offering this to you out of my own free will....so please, don't refuse me. Not now." He smiled. "Please?" He added in a wheedling tone.  
  
She couldn't help but grin. "...Alright, I'm staying." She relented with a sigh.  
  
"Good." He grinned brightly.  
  
"On one condition."  
  
He nodded expectantly. "Name it."  
  
"...We'll both be sleeping on the bed."

*~*~*~*~*~*

Meanwhile, downstairs in the reception area, the bespectacled manager was talking to a man wearing an expensive-looking white cape, dark belted pants, and dark brown boots. "_Signor_...I did what you specifically asked." The manager confirmed in Italian. Not that it had been such a tedious task, mind you--all the manager had to do was manipulate the records so that the hotel would seem completely booked, even though in actuality, there were still about two dozen rooms left to spare. Besides, the man promised that he was going to pay for all the unoccupied rooms, rest assured.  
  
"Excellent." The aforesaid man was hidden in the shadows, so his face couldn't be seen, but the satisfaction was very evident in his voice as he spoke in perfect, fluent Italian. "Good job. Here." A dark gloved hand slid out a gold card towards the manager. "Charge it."  
  
"Yes, thank you very much, _Signor_." The manager smiled and proceeded with the transaction. "Will you be staying the night as well?"  
  
The man shook his head. "Unfortunately not." He answered smoothly. "I have business to attend to in Paris, so I'll be leaving right away. But before I do," He leaned against the table, and, tossing his long brown hair over his shoulder, he spoke in a low tone. "...I have a special request."  
  
"What is it, _Signor_?"  
  
The man smiled. "Remember those two I was talking about a little while ago?"  
  
"Are you referring to the green-haired young Englishman who came down earlier...and the young lady with him?" The manager asked.  
  
"Yes. The VERY same ones." There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I want you to send them up the best and most expensive dinner you offer here. Make it for two. With dessert AND wine." He added. "And tomorrow morning...the best breakfast. Alright?"  
  
The manager nodded. "Very good, _Signor_. But..." he frowned. "Who am I supposed to say they're from?"  
  
"Just...tell them it's on the house," The man waved his hand dismissively. "...In a manner of speaking, it is, anyway. Charge it all up as well."  
  
"It's done, _Signor_," The manager handed back his gold card after several minutes. "We appreciate your business."  
  
"Yes. You're welcome." The man gracefully slid the gold card somewhere inside his eccentric clothes as he started to walk out of the hotel. "Remember what I said!" He called out to the manager.  
  
"I will." The manager called back. "Oh! _Signor_ Asakura!" The man stopped walking but he didn't turn around. "Please come again!"  
  
Asakura Hao whipped his head about and grinned graciously. "I most definitely will." Then, he swiveled with a flourish and disappeared into night.

TSUZUKU.

**_PLUG!!!_ **Me and **da*mouse** have collaborated on an SK fic entitled **Vestige of Dreams**. Please, please, please read it and review! It's YohXAnna with a touch of HaoXAnna, and rated R for mature themes. The _Prologue_ is now up.^_^ So that's it. **Vestige of Dreams.** Please read. Please review. Thank you. And uhm, to make this easier for you, the links are found in my profile bio as well as on mouse-chan's, so click on that!   
  
Or, you can copy and paste this on the browser (just delete the spaces):  
  
h t t p : / / w w w . f a n f i c t i o n . n e t / r e a d . p h p ? s t o r y i d = 1 5 4 3 8 1 4 

**Replies:  
**  
Nope, nope...I was kidding about the mummifying Marco part, **Kitsune**. As much as all of us would LOVE to see him shut up in a pyramid, our dear Jeanne would never allow it. She's too nice, ne?^_^  
  
**Kookiez**, from the way they act, they could probably be mistaken as Horo and Ren's twin brothers...but nope, they don't know each other.^_^  
  
**Fangboy**, I'll ask you: after the scene here, what do you think?^_~ Anyway...more of the two of them, coming up in the next chapter!  
  
**da*mouse**, nice job with Pieces of Heart. Love it, love it, LOVE IT to the ends of Mars!^_^  
  
**Miko-chan**, salamat talaga! I'm glad naaliw kayo ni Imouto-chan dito. Sabihin mo sa kanya, review naman sya! Hehehe...idededicate ko sa inyong 2 yung RenXPilica side story which I will be writing and posting about 3 weeks from now.^_^ Salamat ulit, sobra!

**End notes:  
**  
The hotel where Lyserg and Jeanne and everyone else are staying is partly traditional old-fashioned (thus the warming pans) and partly modern (thus the elevators).  
  
There are references here as to why I allowed Lyserg and Jeanne to reach third base with each other in Celebrations [Chapter 10: Morning Revelations].^_^ I don't know if I was obvious enough (or if _they_ were obvious enough...hwehehehe).  
  
"Signor" is "Mister" in Italian.  
  
Chapter 4 coming up this Friday!  
  
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Whatever you feel, the place to say it is over there *points at the review button on the left*. Please review! Please please please?^_^ Thankees!


	4. Chapter 4: Delirium and Protection

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.

**Chapter 4 - Delirium and Protection  
**  
  
Lyserg opened his eyes as he listened to the pitter-pattering of the rain outside his hotel room window. He fleetingly glanced up at the clock by the door. It was way past midnight, slightly more than an hour after he and Jeanne had gone to bed.  
  
_He and Jeanne...bed._ Somehow, that little statement gave an odd sort of connotation. They had dinner together, bid each other goodnight almost at the same time...and are now currently sleeping on the same bed, next to each other, almost like...like...a couple. A newlywed couple on their honeymoon, minus the sex...Lyserg stopped abruptly at that thought, mentally kicking himself.  
  
_Here you go again with your bloody impure thoughts, Lyserg Diethyl. You're an absolutely honest-to-goodness immoral git, you know that?  
_  
Heaving a loud, resigned sigh, he rolled over on his other side, careful not to disturb Morphin, who was resting at the very corner of his bed, leaning against the upper-right-hand post. He smiled fondly upon setting eyes on the young woman beside him. Somehow, Jeanne had rolled over in her sleep without him noticing. She was now sleeping on her side, with her front facing him, allowing him a liberal view of her whole face...and a liberal view of certain other parts of her body, as well...  
  
_QUIT IT with those bloody impure thoughts, you!  
_  
Forcibly shaking himself out of this seemingly eternal immoral stupor, Lyserg reached out to secure his dressing robe more snugly around her, particularly at the front, so as not to give him a very generous view of things he shouldn't be allowed to see. Glancing at the blanket, he realized he could probably make do without it, and so, removing it from his body, he spread it all over hers, careful to cover everything. He smiled with satisfaction after that particular deed was done, mentally patting himself on the back.  
  
He continued to gaze at her long after he did that. She looked quite the angel when asleep...and even when awake, he noted with a slight smile. A silvery-blue haired angel with beautiful ruby red eyes...an angel who'd willingly given up her wings just so she could come down to earth and be the salvation for all human beings...he sighed, wondering why in the world he was suddenly being so poetic. Reaching out once again, he smoothened the stray hairs on her face, all the while remembering some of the events that took place right before the two of then went to bed.  
  
When she had suggested earlier that the two of them sleep in his bed, beside EACH OTHER, he was...quite scandalized, to say the least. Even though he knew it was very uncalled for...still, the feeling was there. He knew, of course, that she was merely saying that they sleep on the same bed for the sole purpose of sleeping--of resting, and not for anything else. But...the underlying meaning behind it was something that was probably going to haunt him for the rest of his bachelorhood...IF he does remain a bachelor for a long time, that is.  
  
Anyway, he had violently protested against it, and even went as far as to enumerate the multitude of reasons as to why they shouldn't even consider it. But of course, Jeanne wasn't the former X-LAWS leader for nothing. While he was delivering his discourse, she, as well had begun to list the grounds as to why Lyserg should not give up his four-poster, the main ones being that it was _ his_ four-poster bed, _his_ room, and _his_ money that paid for all of it. He had pointed out, though, that it wasn't him who paid for the hotel, but the agency. Unruffled, Jeanne had countered this by saying: be that as it may, it was still _his_ work that paid for it, and that should be reason enough.   
  
Needless to say, the whole bed issue had evolved from a mere generous offer to a full-blown argument, owing to the fact that both of them were too nice and too polite for their own good, and neither of them wished to see the other wanting even just a diminutive fraction.  
  
The argument had gone for long, and they hadn't stopped...not even when room service had delivered their first class dinner on the house. They didn't even get the chance to pause and wonder why the heck the hotel was giving away free dinners...but, now that Lyserg thought about it, there was something rather strange about that...as strange as the fact that the hotel suddenly had no more vacancies on such a short notice...he shook his head and exhaled. No point in worrying about something like that. If the hotel wanted to give them a free dinner, that was perfectly fine.   
  
Getting back to the subject...even all throughout dinner, when he and Jeanne had sat down to eat, still, the two of them had gone on and on and discussed the bed issue. It was a half-and-half kind of an argument. However, the real verdict had come up when, sometime right after dinner, Jeanne had brought upon him an ultimatum: either he sleeps on the bed beside her, or _she_ was going back to the missionary house wearing _his_ clothes...and at which point, the phone in the room had started to ring...it was Sister Vicki, calling in behalf of Marco, who, according to the nun, was already in a pretty much extremely panicked state, due to the fact that neither Jeanne nor Sister Sarah were back yet. Jeanne had proceeded to telling the nun that she will be returning in the morning, and to assure Marco that she was safe, and that she'd booked a hotel room for the night.   
  
Anyway, after that phone call, she had given Lyserg a look, and the young Englishman had grudgingly slipped out of his hotel robe, undone the top buttons of his sleeping shirt, and stepped into the right side of the bed. Jeanne certainly knew how to manipulate him...and that thing with Marco had been the final straw. He wasn't ready to be fed to the vultures as of yet, and knew as much as _she_ did that if Marco sees _her_ wearing _his _clothes at the wee hours of the night, the man would freak out and all hell would probably break loose...after all, Lyserg was the one who had pointed it out to her earlier.  
  
Right after he had caved in to her demands, Jeanne herself had proceeded to taking off the dressing robe...but, realizing that it would seem more than a little bit indecent if she wore just Lyserg's pants and shirt to bed--for they were quite loose, most especially at the front--she had decided against it, and the robe had remained when she lay down on the left side, with her back turned to him.  
  
Jeanne gave a long sigh, causing Lyserg's thoughts to be broken off abruptly, which was just as well. His eyelids were getting heavy. Smoothing out her hair one last time, he touched her cheek affectionately, smiling softly to himself as he retracted his hand, resting it underneath his head.   
  
At the back of his mind, though, he wondered: was it just his imagination...or did Jeanne's face feel somewhat...hot?  
  
Shaking those thoughts away, he sighed and closed his eyes. In a few minutes, he fell asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Hnnn.....aargh!"  
  
Lyserg awoke with a start as he felt the bed shaking beneath him. He sat up in alarm, wondering where the shaking was coming from. He glanced fleetingly about, his eyes resting on the clock for a bit as he noted the time: it was half past one in the morning. Then, his eyes moved once again...and paused at the young woman asleep beside him.  
  
Jeanne's whole face was red, and the color went all the way down to her neck...and probably all over her body as well, Lyserg realized with panic as he reached forward and felt her forehead with his hands. He fought the urge to groan out loud as he retracted his hand quickly. She felt very, very, very, VERY hot...and she was trembling. _She_ was the one who was causing the bed to shake. She was shivering with so much force that he wondered whether it was only actually a mere fever, or...something much more. Something much worse. He briefly inspected the warming pan, thankful that it was comfortably near her side of the bed, yet wondering at the back of his mind if it was actually doing any good, for she was still shivering uncontrollably.  
  
Sighing with frustration, Lyserg placed his head in his hands, mentally berating himself for allowing Jeanne to fall over the Grand Canal along with him, allowing her to get wet in the rain, and allowing her to soak for as long as she did in wet clothing. If he had been a little more careful, a little more quick-thinking, a little more practical, and less hesitant and cowardly, then...perhaps none of this would have happened. Jeanne wouldn't be sick right now. She wouldn't be shivering as hard as she was right now. Her body temperature wouldn't be as high as it obviously was right now...  
  
"...Morphin?" The pink fairy spirit fluttered in front of him, interrupting his thoughts. She gracefully flew above the silvery-blue haired maiden's shivering form and examined her thoughtfully, before flashing her master a slightly questioning look. "She's sick. She's got a...a fever...no wait, actually, I don't know what she's got. But...she's very hot and she's shivering...it might be more than a simple fever...can you make an ice pack or something?" He asked her hopefully.  
  
Morphin nodded her head and resumed to do what her master had asked. In a matter of seconds, a makeshift furyoku ice pack materialized from out of nowhere and landed gently on Jeanne's forehead. "Thank you," Lyserg smiled at his spirit gratefully, all the while still furiously racking his brain for ideas as he continued to search around for anything else that can help alleviate Jeanne's...fever, or whatever the hell it may be.  
  
Whenever Lyserg had a fever, or if he had somehow been afflicted with a similar illness, he usually just lets it pass for about a couple of days without taking any sort of medicine whatsoever. The only thing he did was drink a couple of glasses of water and sleep for a certain number of hours at a time--and it usually worked for him, cured his sickness. Usually.  
  
But, Jeanne's condition...he could tell that this was no ordinary fever. She was WAY too hot, and she was shivering WAY too much. He wondered if her extremely high body temperature somehow had to do with the fact that a certain long-haired bastard managed to burn her almost to the point of death around a decade ago. More correctly, for the second time that day, he wondered if it WAS actually a fever...or something else entirely...  
  
"L...L...Lyserg...?" He raised his head up as a pair of ruby eyes slowly opened weakly, her teeth chattering. "I...I'm...I'm..." she shivered.  
  
Lyserg rushed to her side in an instant, wrapping the thick blanket around her even more snugly. "Don't try to talk," he whispered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and adjusting the furyoku ice pack on top of her forehead, wincing a little bit as his fingers touched her extremely feverish skin. He couldn't tell what her body temperature was...but from the heat on her skin, he wouldn't be surprised if she ended up bursting into flames anytime soon. Once again, he wondered if the warming pan was doing her any good...but then, he realized that thinking even further wouldn't do anything, wouldn't be any help at all...and would probably only end up prolonging Jeanne's sickness...and her pain.  
  
...He didn't want to give her any more pain. Finally coming up with something resembling a concrete plan, he rose up, determined to ask for all the help he could get as fast as he can--any help at all--even if it kills him.  
  
He had only taken two steps away from the bed when a burning, trembling hand clamped on his wrist. "L...L...Ly...Lyserg...w...where a...are y...you g...g...going?" She asked in between chattering teeth. "D...d...don...don't l...leave m...me..." her eyes filled with tears. "P...please..."  
  
Sighing helplessly, Lyserg sat back down on the bed and held both of her hands tightly in his. "I'll be back," he assured her with a faint smile. "I'm just going out for a while to ask for help. It won't take long, I promise," he vowed, wondering, at the back of his mind, if the hotel's resident doctor was available round-the-clock. If he wasn't, then..._he'll_ just have to think of another option. Either way, he intended to go back to Jeanne _with_ help--fast.  
  
"P...p...pl...please, c...come b...back s...soon," She managed to reply weakly. "I...I...n...need you here...w...with m...me..."  
  
"I will." Lyserg murmured with reassurance, pressing a soft kiss to her fingers to seal the promise. "I will."  
  
Reluctantly, he let go of her hands, stood up, and crossed over the room towards the door. "...I'll be right back," he told her firmly as he walked out, promising himself that, if the doctor wasn't around, he was going to enlist Caesar's help. And he was going to enlist Luc's help, as well--even if it means disturbing and angering the other detective enough to get himself forcibly thrown against the wall.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Caesar?" Lyserg glanced around impatiently as he knocked on the door. He had just returned from the hotel's resident doctor's supposed clinic, and just as he had surmised, the doctor wasn't around. He had passed by Luc's room a couple of minutes ago, and surprisingly, managed to enlist the other detective's help without so much as a protest. After he briefed Luc regarding Jeanne's situation, the light-brown haired detective told Lyserg to go on ahead; he was going to follow shortly. Lyserg had obliged gratefully, and then, proceeded to ask for Caesar's help as well.  
  
He was about to knock again when the door opened and out came a very alert-looking Caesar. "You've got to help me," Lyserg began. "Jeanne's--"  
  
"--Ill? I know." The red-haired detective gave a brief nod. He closed the door to his room, locking it. "I felt you prowling about. You were broadcasting like a radio antenna, if you get my meaning," Caesar said dryly. "...Anyhow, we should go. You've called Luc as well, haven't you?"  
  
Lyserg nodded as the two of them walked in an increasingly brisk speed. "He said he'll be coming along." Finally, they reached the door of his room.  
  
"Good." Caesar smiled with satisfaction as he followed the green-haired young man inside. "I think his so-called 'secret' companion will be coming with him. I doubt if she'll be able to stand not helping knowing that one of her missionary volunteers is...GOOD LORD!" He exclaimed as the pink fairy spirit flew over their heads frantically. "...Tinker Bell, what's wrong?" He asked the spirit with concern.  
  
Morphin frowned at the mistake in her name, but, obviously ignoring it, she flew towards Jeanne and circled the ice pack on top of the maiden's forehead. Or rather...the _remains_ of what had been the makeshift furyoku ice pack. "It MELTED?" Lyserg exclaimed with shock as he rushed over in a flash on the bed beside the young woman. "Morphin, let's make another one--"  
  
"Forget it. That won't do any good." Caesar interrupted, sitting down beside the vanity table. "She's literally burning up. SEVERELY burning up."  
  
"But...why won't the ice pack do any good?" Lyserg wondered, his brows furrowing. "I mean, it should at least make her temperature go down--"  
  
"It won't, believe me." The red-haired detective told him firmly. "If we only had a thermometer somewhere around here, we might be able to...oh! I forgot, I have one right here!" He felt his pajama pants pockets, and then pulled out the said instrument with a flourish. "Good thing I always take this along. It's not really necessary, but at least we'll be able to know exactly how high her fever is." He stood up and handed the thermometer to his friend.  
  
Lyserg took it gratefully, tapped Jeanne's shoulder gently, and lifted her up, setting the thermometer and placing it under her arm, underneath the clothes. "Wait...are you telling me that this is just a fever?"  
  
"Yup. Among other things." Caesar responded. "Her fever's the worst, though. I can't tell for sure, but I do believe she's also got--" he paused abruptly as Jeanne gave a loud sneeze, then a cough. "--those. Cough and colds. I don't know much about these things, so this is all based only on what I feel from her." He sighed. "It'd be better if we had a doctor, or someone to that effect...are you sure the doctor wasn't around?"  
  
"Extremely sure." Lyserg answered without looking at him. He continued to gaze at Jeanne with a very worried frown on his face. "I called several times. I even asked the receptionist at the ground level. The doctor doesn't sleep around here, it seems." He sighed helplessly. "Caesar, what am I going to do? This is all my fault. If I hadn't invited her to go on that gondola ride..." He stood up and paced around. "I don't know anything about illnesses. I don't take medicine when I'm sick, so I haven't got any of those things with me. Do YOU have medicine?" He asked Caesar hopefully as he continued to pace and look around. "What am I supposed to--"  
  
"Lyserg," Caesar exhaled. "Calm down. Worrying won't help Miss Jeanne. And you're confusing Tinker Bell," he added with a slight smile. "...Ouch!" He groaned as the pink fairy spirit lightly hit his cheek. "Alright, alright...Morphin," he said with emphasis, giving the spirit a look. "Sit DOWN, will you?" He urged the other man. "You're making me dizzy."  
  
Lyserg reluctantly sat back down on the bed and resumed looking at Jeanne worriedly. He reached over and felt her forehead again, wincing at the heat. "She's so darn hot," he murmured. "And she's still shivering so hard. What the hell am I going to do?" He stood up and started pacing back and forth once again.  
  
"L...Ly...serg..."  
  
"JEANNE!" At once, Lyserg was on the bed again, hovering over the silvery-haired maiden. "How are you feeling? I'm sorry, that's a stupid question, I mean, you must feel like hell right now and--"  
  
"Y...you're...h...here..." Her eyes opened slightly, and a weak smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Y...you...c...c...came...b...back..."  
  
He gave an indrawn breath. "Of course I came back. I told you I would, didn't I?" He whispered, cradling both of her hands tightly in his. "I'm sorry, there was no doctor around..."  
  
"It's...f...fine..." She managed, very weakly. "You...d...did....everything....you....c...could..."  
  
"Maybe we should take her down to a hospital," Caesar suggested, genuine concern written on his whole face.  
  
Jeanne shook her head vigorously. "N...no. No ho...hospital...can't...g...go...th...there," her teeth chattered. "M...Mar...co...L...Lyserg..." she shook her head again.  
  
"Oh." Caesar nodded with understanding, raising an eyebrow at Lyserg. "You don't want Marco killing Lyserg, and he certainly will if we take you to a hospital. Okay...then we won't." He smiled slightly as, satisfied with his answer, the young woman closed her eyes again. "Let's just wait for Luc. I think he and Sister Sarah are--" A knock sounded on the door. "--here. Don't move," he told Lyserg firmly. "I'll get it." He stood up and swung open the door.  
  
Luc stepped in, eyebrow slightly raised, hands on hips. "Took you long enough," he said curtly. His hazel-green eyes studied the whole room critically as he walked in, before they paused on the bed, particularly, its two current occupants.   
  
Caesar snorted as he sat back down. "YOU'RE one to talk. You were supposed to be here TEN minutes ago."  
  
"Hmph." Luc huffed. Then, turning to Lyserg, he asked in a slightly softer tone, "...How is she?"  
  
"Delirious. And burning up," Lyserg answered without taking his eyes off of Jeanne. "...And I don't know what to do," he added helplessly.  
  
"...Have you checked her temperature?" A familiar female voice inquired. Caesar looked up as the silvery-golden haired nun rushed inside the room and headed straight to Jeanne's bedside. She was wearing the maroon dressing robe, courtesy of the hotel. She sat down on the bed, reached over, and felt the young woman's forehead. "...Yes, she's quite hot, alright." She frowned, then glanced at Lyserg with a sympathetic smile on her face. "Lyserg, I'm going to have to ask you to let go of her hands. I need to check her pulse."  
  
Lyserg nodded and reluctantly obeyed, watching Sister Sarah as she checked Jeanne all over, timed her heartbeat, and thoroughly examined her the way a seasoned nurse would. "There's a thermometer under her arm, Sister. I think it's just about through reading her temperature."  
  
"Excellent." The blonde nun gently raised Jeanne's arm up, took the thermometer, and examined it thoughtfully. "...A hundred and three. That's quite high." She frowned with concern. "Let's see..." She opened her purse in search for something.  
  
Across the room, Luc was observing this whole scene, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Meanwhile, right beside him, Caesar was gazing at the nun with an expression of astonishment on his face.  
  
"Sister...pardon me for asking, but I thought you were a nun, not a nurse or a doctor," he commented.  
  
Sister Sarah paused to smile briefly in Caesar's direction. "I _am_ a nun. But I was once a medical student...before I received my calling, that is." She answered softly as she gracefully held out a bottle of extra-strength antibiotics to Lyserg. "I'll give this to you. Please assist her in drinking the medicine, Lyserg." She placed the bottle in the detective's hand.  
  
"Thank you." Lyserg smiled gratefully at the nun. Then, he opened the bottle, took a pill, and tapped Jeanne's shoulder gently.  
  
The young woman slowly opened her eyes. "L...Ly...serg...? Sis...ter...Sa...rah...what...are....you...?" She paused abruptly on a cough.  
  
"Sister Sarah gave me some medicine for you," Lyserg whispered as he gently helped her sit up. He took a glass of water from the bedside and held out the pill to her. "Drink up," he instructed gently, placing the pill against her lips. She opened her mouth and took the pill gratefully, and drank.  
  
"Th...thank...you..." Jeanne smiled at Lyserg as he helped her lie back down again. "S...sister...thank...you...as...well..." Her eyes fluttered close once more. After about fifteen minutes, she fell asleep...this time, no longer shivering as uncontrollably as before.   
  
Lyserg continued to gaze at her long after she had drifted off, his face illustrating an expression of slight anxiety and...something else. "You're welcome, Jeanne..." he uttered, barely above a whisper, even though he knew she couldn't possibly hear him in her sleep. He clasped both of her hands tightly against his, like he never wanted to let go.  
  
Sister Sarah watched them the entire time, with a soft, fond smile on her lips, her heart visibly warmed as she realized how much the young detective cared for the silvery-blue haired young woman...and how that feeling was very obviously reciprocated. Then, sighing, she turned her head slightly to gaze at Luc and Caesar.  
  
The two men were taking turns appraising each other critically, while at the same time, exchanging a couple of words. It would seem that they had started this mini-verbal battle from the moment they became aware that Jeanne's condition was already somewhere along the lines of okay.  
  
Currently, Luc was glaring daggers at Caesar as the redhead continuously fired embarrassing questions at him without missing a beat.  
  
"Were you both AWAKE when Lyserg knocked at your door?"  
  
"Dammit, OF COURSE we WERE!"  
  
"And WHERE were you SLEEPING?"  
  
"On the COUCH!"  
  
"OH, REALLY?"  
  
"You think I'm LYING?!?"  
  
"Are you SURE you WEREN'T taking advantage of HER?"  
  
"WHY in BLOODY BLAZES would I do THAT? I am NOT a PERVERT like YOU, Silverberg!" Luc paused. "And besides, I happen to have a lot of self-control..." The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.  
  
"Oh, REALLY? So...are YOU admitting that you had PLANS to take advantage of HER?"  
  
"No, of COURSE NOT, DAMMIT!" Luc exhaled. "Unlike YOU, Silverberg, I happen to have this thing called HONOR. And I also happen to have this thing called RESPECT. For WOMEN," he emphasized. "I am NOT the abusive, masochistic, psychopathic lunatic that YOU ARE."  
  
"Are you TRYING to ANNOY me?" This time, Caesar stood up and glared darkly.  
  
Luc smirked. "That depends. Am I succeeding?"  
  
"WHY YOU--"  
  
"Could you two PLEASE shut the FREAKING HELL UP?" Lyserg hissed, glowering at his two detective friends. "Jeanne is SICK. Or have you forgotten that in your hastiness to get into each other's THROATS?" He demanded.  
  
Luc and Caesar glared at each other one last time. "He started it," they muttered in unison.  
  
Lyserg exhaled. "It doesn't matter who started it. Just...stop it right now, please?"  
  
Luc huffed. "Yeah. Alright." He looked over at Sister Sarah and flashed her an apologetic look.  
  
"Yeah." Caesar echoed, albeit grudgingly.  
  
"Good." Lyserg breathed a sigh of relief. "Sister Sarah...I'm glad you're here," he said sincerely. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't know what to do, so...thank you."  
  
The nun gave Luc an amused smile before turning to Lyserg. "You're very welcome," She said softly. "...God willing, her fever should break by early sunrise, so don't worry. Just continue watching over her until then." She smiled once again. Then, standing up, she leaned over and kissed Jeanne gently on the forehead. "Take good care of her," she told Lyserg, referring, more correctly, to a whole lot more than just Jeanne's fever.  
  
"I will." The green-haired young detective promised.  
  
"I'll be going now." Sister Sarah took her purse, nodded at Lyserg, smiled at Morphin, and walked towards the door. She glanced briefly at Caesar, then, at Luc, her eyes lingering much more than they should at the light-brown haired detective. "I'll see you all in the morning." She murmured softly before she walked out.  
  
Luc stared in the direction she disappeared to, and then, he shook his head and exhaled. "...Well. I guess Caesar and I had better go, too." He turned to the red-haired man and pulled him along by the neck of his shirt forcefully. "Come on, Silverberg." He started to drag the other man out.  
  
"Ouch, ouch, OUCH! Let GO of ME!" Caesar groaned, and struggled. He smacked his hand across his captor's face and managed to crawl out of his grasp. "Lyserg, one little piece of advice before I leave." He walked towards his friend.  
  
Luc rolled his eyes with exasperation. "Make it quick, Silverberg. I'm TIRED."  
  
"So go to your room. Don't wait up for me."  
  
"I'm sleeping in YOUR room for the rest of the night...dawn, rather." He gave Caesar a warning look. "And you can't complain."  
  
"Yes, I CAN!" Caesar said defensively. "Sleep with Sister Sarah! I don't wanna sleep with you!"  
  
"Well, gee," Luc said sarcastically, "...it doesn't look like you have much of a choice now, do you?" He smirked with satisfaction.  
  
"Hmph." Caesar glared. "Anyway, Lyserg..." he gave his friend a meaningful look. "If in case Miss Jeanne remains delirious and shivering even after that medicine, here's what you can do..." he bent down and whispered something in Lyserg's ear.  
  
Lyserg was blushing beet red when Caesar finally finished. "Will THAT really work?" He wondered out loud.  
  
Caesar grinned confidently. "Oh, it will, trust me."  
  
Luc exhaled. "Are you done? Good. Let's go." He walked out the door. "We'll be seeing you."  
  
Caesar mumbled something incoherent under his breath. "Yes, boss." He answered grudgingly, following the other man outside. "We'll see you in the morning, Lyserg, Tinker Bell," he smiled sweetly up at Morphin.   
  
"Yeah. And thanks." Lyserg called out softly to the two men's retreating backs.

*~*~*~*~*~*

About an hour after he had managed to fall asleep once more, Lyserg was again roused as a trembling hand clutched tightly on his arm. Yawning, he reluctantly shook himself awake, rolling over and gazing at Jeanne's face, and touching the hand that was holding on to him. "...What is it?" His voice was still slightly husky from sleep.  
  
Although her face had lost its sheer redness from earlier, she was still a little pink, and still shivering quite a bit. "...I'm cold," she managed in a breathless whisper. "Lyserg...I feel so cold...and I'm so dizzy and I--" her words were interrupted by a strong cough. "Dear Lord...I'm dying," she choked out.  
  
"You are NOT dying," He assured her firmly, reaching over to feel her forehead. She was still a little hot, although not to the point that she would be bursting into flames at any second. At least the medicine was doing a bit of good, he thought with relief. He wondered how long, exactly, before the antibiotic takes effect completely. Sister Sarah had said that the fever would break by sunrise..._what time was sunrise?_  
  
"Lyserg..." Jeanne's shaking hand had moved to his face. She was still shaking so hard...not as hard as earlier, but it was still enough to send him into panic. No one was supposed to shiver this much, even in a fever. It wasn't humanely possible. It wasn't normal...Lyserg paused abruptly at that thought.  
  
_...She isn't exactly normal, though, is she? She's a shaman. She's Iron Maiden Jeanne. That means...she can't be completely cured through normal human methods.  
_  
_So what am I supposed to do...?  
_  
_You're a shaman as well, aren't you?_ A voice inside his head reminded him. _You should be able to figure -that- out.  
_  
_I should...?  
_  
_Yes, you should.  
_  
_...Furyoku._ Lyserg couldn't believe he hadn't seen it earlier: the answer had been staring at him right in the face. The makeshift umbrella, the makeshift ice pack, Morphin...his spiritual power. Furyoku was life. Furyoku was strength, and strength is what Jeanne needs right now.  
  
He could transfer some of the furyoku from his body to Jeanne's...but how? He wasn't a doctor like Faust...and Jeanne needed _plenty_ of strength, so a mere hand-over-the-body thing wouldn't do any good.  
  
So...how?  
  
And suddenly, Caesar's earlier advice chose that time to invade his head.  
  
_"If in case Miss Jeanne remains delirious and shivering even after that medicine, here's what you can do..."  
_  
Lyserg had no indecision. Immoral or not, embarrassment notwithstanding, he had no other option. _This_ was the best way to heal her completely. The _ only_ way.  
  
_"...Wrap your arms around her and transfer your body heat to hers."  
_  
And so...he did.  
  
To his relief, the silvery-blue haired maiden sighed contentedly as she moved closer towards his warm embrace. She had finally stopped shivering.  
  
_Finally._  
  
"Lyserg...thank...you..." That was the last thing she said right before her eyes drifted close. She fell into a peaceful sleep, nestled in the arms of the one man who, no matter what happens, would take care of her...and protect her--to the ends of the earth.

TSUZUKU.

**End notes:**  
  
Just an fyi for everyone: Caesar is 24 years old, Luc is 25, and Sister Sarah is also 25. Lyserg is the youngest among all the detectives in the agency.^^  
  
Uhm...as I said in the previous chapter, the hotel is half old-fashioned, half modern, so...the doctor couldn't have been called using the telephone in the room. Anyway, I added that bit just in case anyone asks.^^  
  
And also, I'm abiding by what Yoh usually says (in the anime): only good people can see spirits. Granted, normal _good_ people can't see spirits, but...Luc and Caesar aren't exactly normal, and Sister Sarah is a holy servant. So...yeah. Just in case anyone asks.^^  
  
A hundred and three degrees Fahrenheit...this is equal to forty-two degrees Celsius, just in case anyone was wondering. It's the reading right at the very end of the body thermometer here in my house.^^  
  
And lastly...Caesar's advice. Yes, that _does_ work...on occasion. And so does medicine.^^  
  
Yes, here I go again. Reviews!*points at the button on the left* Go!


	5. Chapter 5: The Pope and the Hermit

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.  
  
Hugs and credits goes to **da*mouse**, for helping me with the start of this particular chapter. Thank you thankees, Nezumi-chan!^_^

**Chapter 5 - The Pope and the Hermit  
**  
  
The glare of the morning sun, coupled with loud noises from the motorboats roaring about outside caused a small disturbance, thereby leading a silvery-blue haired maiden to open her eyes.  
  
Jeanne gazed around her, surveying her surroundings sleepily. Apart from her argument with Lyserg, and then eating dinner with him and going to bed, she couldn't remember a single thing that had occurred starting late last night until early dawn. All she had were faint, blurry memories. She remembered feeling really hot...and then, really, really cold. She remembered shivering, sneezing, coughing...dying. And then...  
  
A loud sigh interrupted her thoughts. Her whole body went rigid as she felt the rush of a warm breath near the back of her neck...and something that felt strangely human beside her, on the bed. Behind her.  
  
With a small, dainty yawn, she glanced down...and noticed a pair of arms around her waist. She ran her gaze from the pair of arms up, until her eyes reached the shoulders, then the neck...and finally, the face. The owner of the said arms.  
  
_...Lyserg._ Abruptly, she was wide awake.  
  
She should have known. How long has he been holding her like that? She couldn't quite remember.  
  
Jeanne shifted from her position in the bed so that she was facing him, painstakingly making sure that she was gentle with her movements so that he won't be disturbed. It wouldn't do any good to wake him up, for he looked extremely tired. She reached over and traced the faint shadow of eye bags underneath his eyes. He had probably spent most of his time late last night worrying about her condition, furiously searching for anything and anyone who can help make her better...and taking care of her.  
  
That particular thought warmed her heart. She smiled softly to herself, her fingers moving from his eyes to stroke the stray hairs at his face. Her hands shifted and brushed against the contours of his cheeks gently. _That_ action earned her a faint sigh from Lyserg...and he smiled in his sleep, as if urging her to go on, continue with her tender ministrations.  
  
Jeanne's whole body went rigid once again as Lyserg's arms shifted a little bit higher around her, pulling her even closer towards him.  
  
Although she was wearing two layers of his clothing, and with a very thick blanket wrapped around her besides, Jeanne was perfectly aware of the fact that her body--her whole body--was only a mere couple of millimeters away from his. She could feel well enough how _extremely_ close the two of them were. Even though he was also fully clothed, their proximity was quite...too much. Much too close for comfort...and certainly close enough to the point that it hovered on the brink of being indecent. Immoral.  
  
Strangely enough, instead of being bothered by that fact, Jeanne felt...oddly comforted. This was the first time she has ever been THIS close to a man. More correctly, the first time she's ever been in BED, with a MAN. Granted, she and Lyserg had only slept...but still, they _had_ spent the _entire_ night in ONE BED, _together_...and the meaning underneath that bordered on scandalous. Or rather, treaded _very_ dangerously on scandalous ground. If granted that this HAD been the old, ancient times, _she_ would have been immediately branded a fallen woman, and _he_ would have been thrown straight into the lion's den.  
  
Anyway, it comes quite as a relief to Jeanne that it was, in fact, the 21st century, and neither of them need be bothered by such trivial, inconsistent, stereotypical and inaccurate judgments of the past. She gave a small sigh.  
  
_It would be very unfair to prosecute Lyserg for wanting to take care of me, for making sure I was out of any harm, and for helping me gain my strength back in probably the only methods he knew. Very unfair, indeed. And inconceivably unjust, as well...  
_   
The green-haired young detective exhaled loudly, startling Jeanne...and making her realize that her hands were still at his face, continuously touching him, her fingers stroking his wonderfully smooth, fair cheeks. As smooth as any woman's, and yet...showed faint signs of a recently shaven beard and moustache--clear evidences that he was, in fact, a man. A _very_ handsome man.  
  
A strange warmth crawled up on Jeanne's face at that thought. Warmth that had nothing to do whatsoever with her recent fever...and everything to do with her current musings. She KNEW he was handsome, of course. He'd always been handsome, and for the length of time that they've been comrades, and later, friends, she'd always known that.   
  
However...that's not to say that she'd been particularly...AWARE of it, exactly. That was years ago, and at that time, _they_ had both been mere children, too busy worrying about the Shaman Fight and about purifying the world from the sins of man to care about something as trivial as looks.  
  
Still, that's not to say that she didn't actually notice...for she certainly did. She wondered if...HE had noticed her then, too...or had his only concern back then been his revenge for his parents' deaths?  
  
Jeanne paused abruptly and frowned at Lyserg; and then, at her hand, which had just finished its journey across his face and was currently making its way towards his neck. Briefly, she wondered if she was at the liberty to ask him about that...or if will even be necessary to ask. She _could_ probably be able to figure that out on her own...couldn't she?  
  
At the back of her mind, she wondered why in the name of all the saints she was _still_ touching him...and why it felt SO darn natural to be doing it...  
  
...And why she didn't seem to want to stop. Touching him felt SO good, SO right, and...  
  
Lyserg stirred, then slowly opened his eyes and yawned. "Good morning," he greeted her sleepily.  
  
Jeanne pulled her hand back quickly as if she'd been burned. She could feel her cheeks flaming. She wondered if HER...touches were what woke him up. Horrified at that thought, she found herself unable to move in his arms as he gazed at her, and she looked back at him. "G...good m..morning..." She heard herself utter in garbled French.  
  
_Garbled French._ She fought the urge to groan out loud and compensated by mentally kicking herself instead.  
  
An oddly confused look crossed over the green-haired Englishman's face. "Why are you speaking to me in French?" He murmured questioningly, his eyes roving over her face, examining her critically. "I mean, you've never..." his eyes widened upon realizing their current position on the bed. He removed his hands from around her and sat up quickly, turning his back towards her. "...Sorry," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Jeanne sat up as well, holding the robe she was wearing securely at her front. Her heart thumped wildly inside her chest, her mind unavoidably reeling at the sudden emptiness she felt. Emptiness that was solely due to the fact that he no longer had his arms around her. She was no longer nestled in the comfort of his embrace. She was no longer touching him... "It's nothing..."   
  
A sigh. "I'm sorry," he repeated, as if he didn't hear her. "I didn't realize that you were awake and that I..." his voice trailed off, and he shook his head helplessly as he reluctantly turned his head to look at her. "Anyway...are you alright?"  
  
"Alright?" She gave him a confused look.  
  
"Your fever," he explained. With an agreeable amount of caution, he inched closer towards her on the bed and reached out, feeling her forehead with his hand. He leveled his eyes with hers, frowning thoughtfully. "...your temperature seems to have gone down. That's good..." He murmured, smiling with relief.  
  
Jeanne could feel herself blushing beneath his gaze. Taking a deep breath, she gathered up her courage and tried to fight off her embarrassment, while at the same time, forced herself to break the eye contact with him.   
  
She wasn't having much success with either. And besides, it wasn't like she really wanted to look away... "I'm fine," she assured, quite surprised at the huskiness in her voice.  
  
...And yes, perfectly aware that he had not taken his hand off of her even though he was long done checking her temperature.  
  
"You're sure?" She gave an affirmative nod, suppressing the sigh of pleasure that threatened to escape her lips as his hands moved to caress her hair. "...Good." He declared, his browns furrowing as he continued to subject her under his intense gaze.  
  
Jeanne swallowed, her eyes unblinking as she returned his gaze. The two of them regarded each other in silence for a good couple of minutes.  
  
...Until a knock sounded on the door. "Room service!" A voice chirped in Italian-accented English.  
  
"I'll get it!" Jeanne shouted hastily, getting up and rushing towards the door before Lyserg could. "Good morning!" She greeted as she opened the door.  
  
"...Breakfast for two, on the house," the bespectacled hotel manager announced, smiling brightly at Jeanne as he motioned the bellhop to wheel the tray in.  
  
"On the house?" Lyserg stood up from the bed and gave the man a puzzled look. "Again?" He narrowed his eyes as the bellhop loaded out the breakfast trays on the dining table in the room.  
  
"_Si._" The manager answered. "Compliments of the hotel," he explained, with a slight bow of his head. "We hope you will enjoy it, _Signor_, _ Signorina_." He paused. "And before I forget..." He glanced outside the door and nodded. A maid entered, wheeling a compartment laden with towels and blankets...and yes, their newly-washed, freshly dried clothes.  
  
Jeanne gave a sigh of relief upon spotting her white dress. "Good! I can finally change my clothes now." She smiled gratefully as the maid loaded out the clothes on top of the dresser. "Uh..._grazie_." The maid gave a small bow, then walked off.  
  
Lyserg glanced at the clothes, before turning to the manager again, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. "Are you sure these are free? Meaning no disrespect or anything but..." he frowned at the dining table. "...Dinner last night, and now, breakfast. I _really_ won't be paying for these, am I?"  
  
"No, of course not, _Signor_." The manager shook his head vigorously. "...Everything is free, I give you my word."  
  
The young detective continued to narrow his eyes at the other man, still not fully convinced.  
  
"Lyserg..." Jeanne gave him a meaningful look. "If he says it's free, then it must be. He's not about to lie to us," she added. "...isn't that right?"  
  
"_Si._" The manager smiled at her gratefully. "I do not lie about these things."  
  
"Well...okay," Lyserg said finally. "Thank you. I mean, _grazie_."  
  
"_Grazie._" The manager gave them one last bow and walked out, together with the bellhop.  
  
As soon as they had left, Jeanne smiled brightly at him. "Shall we have breakfast, then?" She sat down on one of the seats and gave him a look.  
  
He grudgingly sat down beside her, staring with dismay at the large spread of food before him. "...Too much meat," he muttered, eyeing the bacon and cold cuts with distaste. He took the bowl of fruit oatmeal that had obviously been made for him. "Just like last night's dinner. I can't eat anything else here besides _this_." He held up the bowl with emphasis.  
  
Jeanne shrugged as she ate the bacon, eggs, cold cuts, and the rest of her food with relish. "It's free. We could request for something else," she suggested.  
  
"NO." Lyserg shook his head firmly. "Room service is expensive." He took a small bite of the oatmeal. "...At least this is good."  
  
She placed her glass of orange juice on the table and raised a fine eyebrow at him. "I thought you said money is no problem _at all_ with you detectives."  
  
"...That's different," He countered. "This is food for _me_. I don't like spending money too much for myself. But if it's for _you_, well...that's a different matter altoge--" He stopped short and blushed profusely as he realized what he was saying. He averted his eyes and pretended to be very, very interested in his breakfast.  
  
"You don't like spending too much for _you_, but you don't mind if it's for _me_?" She could feel the heat rising up to her cheeks. "Lyserg, that's...that's..." her voice trailed off. She _knew_ she was blushing so incredibly hard right now...just like he was.  
  
They resumed eating their breakfast in silence. In a long, extremely tensed, uncomfortable silence. Nervous silence. Awkward.  
  
Unable to stand the silence any longer, Lyserg coughed. "Jeanne...?"  
  
She looked up from her toast. "Yes?"  
  
"Are you...are you sure you're alright? I mean, seriously? Because you know..." he coughed nervously. "Late last night and earlier this morning, you were shivering so hard and you were so hot that I didn't think you would..." He paused, sighing helplessly. "I didn't know what I was going to do, so I asked for Caesar and Luc and Sister Sarah's help," he confessed. "But even after that, you still wouldn't stop shivering, so I had to...I had to..."  
  
"Embrace me?" She supplied helpfully, a faint smile tugging at her lips.  
  
He gave her a sheepish look. "S...sorry."  
  
"For what?" She asked blankly.  
  
"...for doing _that_ without permission." He answered. "I mean--"  
  
"--and thereby giving me my strength back?" Jeanne interrupted, her smile finally appearing. "You have nothing to feel sorry about. If anything..._I_ should be _thanking_ you." She gazed at him, her eyes showing deep, sincere warmth. "I don't think I'd be up and about right now if it weren't for you...you, and Caesar, and Luc, and Sister Sarah. Everyone helped in healing me. Everyone...but most especially _you_, Lyserg." She paused. "If you hadn't...embraced me the way...you did, I might have..." She sighed, unable to continue, almost as if whatever it was that would follow in her statement was just simply unthinkable. "The important thing is, I'm perfectly fine now...and it's all because of you." She drew in a deep breath. "So Lyserg...thank you. So much."  
  
"Y...you're welcome," Lyserg managed, somehow at a loss for words.  
  
Jeanne nodded.  
  
"...But you know..." Finally gaining back his composure, he spoke again. "It's really nothing."   
  
She gave another nod, not trusting her voice to speak. He was looking at her so intensely...  
  
"I mean...as long as I know that...that you're safe, and you're healthy, that's enough thanks for me."  
  
...And as he continued to looked at her that time, and she gazed back at him, she saw something in his eyes...something she knew she would always remember for the rest of her life. A deep, warm emotion that she would never ever forget...  
  
_His_ emotion.  
  
She could never forget it...because _she_ felt it too.

*~*~*~*~*~*

"...Jeanne?" Lyserg called out to the bathroom as he pulled on his dark green boots. "Are you finished?"  
  
"Just about," Jeanne's muffled voice called back. In a few minutes, the bathroom door opened and out came the silvery-blue haired maiden, wearing her freshly-laundered white short-sleeved dress. She stepped into her sandals, sighing contentedly. "I feel SO much better wearing these."  
  
The green-haired detective chuckled as he stood up, handing her his newly-washed black hooded overcoat. "You look much better in them, too." He paused, thinking. "Not that I didn't particularly like seeing you in _my_ clothes, of course..." he muttered under his breath.  
  
Catching that statement, she blushed slightly as she took the offered coat and wrapped it around her. "Thank you. Are we going?"  
  
"Uh-huh." He smiled. "We should drop by Luc's and Caesar's rooms for a bit, though. I'll have to inform them where I'll be heading so they can meet me somewhere. Morphin, let's go!" He told his power spirit, and at once, the pink fairy floated towards him and landed on his shoulder. He walked towards the door. "...Jeanne?" He frowned. "What in the world are you doing?" He wondered, watching her by the bed.  
  
She had just finished straightening the bedcovers. She took her small purse and rushed to his side. "...Sorry. I just had to do that." She gave him an apologetic look. "Obsessive compulsion. I can't stand seeing anything wrinkled." She explained.  
  
Lyserg sighed as he gave her an amused smile. "Is that right?" He raised an eyebrow. "Hmm...well, anyway, let's go then...CAESAR?!?!?" He almost lost his balance as, upon opening the door, the red-haired Englishman's grinning face greeted him. "Are you trying to give me a BLOODY heart attack?!?" He inhaled several times, glaring at Caesar the whole way. He shut the door as he and Jeanne walked out, and together with the other man, they walked across the hallway, heading towards nowhere in particular.  
  
"Nope. Just wanted to greet you and Miss Jeanne a good morning," The other man replied breezily. "...Miss Jeanne," Upon spotting the silvery-blue haired maiden, he gave a surprised, but otherwise relieved smile. "How are you doing?"  
  
She smiled in return. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you and Sister Sarah and Luc...and of course, Lyserg." She gave the green-haired Englishman a fond look.  
  
Caesar raised a knowing eyebrow at the still-glaring Lyserg's direction. "You're welcome, Miss Jeanne." He grinned meaningfully. "I'm glad Lyserg took my advice." He added.  
  
"What advice?" Jeanne wanted to know.  
  
"Nothing much," Caesar answered cheerfully, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I just told him to wrap his arms around you." He grinned. "...In case you remain cold and shivering even after the antibiotic, that is." He shrugged, then flashed Lyserg a wink, causing the latter to blush and glare at him even more. "Anyway, are you two going off somewhere?" He grinned wickedly. "On a DATE? So early in the MORNING?"  
  
Ignoring his final statement, Lyserg asked, "Where's Luc?"  
  
This time, Caesar frowned. "...Back in his room." He sighed. "He said he couldn't stand my nosing about his business, so he went back there around..." He glanced at his watch. "...Three hours ago. Five this morning." He snorted. "If you asked _me_, I think he just wants to take this opportunity to finally execute his EVIL perverted plan towards..." He paused abruptly, eyes widening as he remembered that Jeanne was with them.  
  
"Towards...?" Jeanne gave him an expectant look.  
  
"Uhm..." Caesar glanced nervously around him. "....Nothing! So...where are you two heading?" He asked instead, purposely changing the subject.  
  
Lyserg shook his head exasperatedly at his friend. "I'm taking Jeanne back to the missionary house. But I was going to drop by yours and Luc's rooms first, so I could tell you where I'm going." He gave Caesar a look. "...But since you're here, then we only need to go by Luc's." He paused. "Are you coming?"  
  
"Bloody hell, yeah! Of course I am!" Caesar exclaimed eagerly. "I want to see if Boss Luc somehow managed to succeed in his evil--" Remembering once again that Jeanne was with them, he coughed. "I mean...OUR plans. Yeah." He nodded decisively as they walked in a specific direction this time...to Luc's room.  
  
Jeanne nudged Lyserg and gave him a puzzled look. The green-haired Englishman shrugged, unable to explain to her what Caesar was saying just a little while ago, for it undeniably involved Luc doing certain _things_ to Sister Sarah--_things_ that somehow bordered on immoral...NOT that Caesar was actually serious about it. But, anyway...they reached Luc's room after a couple of more steps.  
  
Caesar shooed them both from the door and placed his hands on the knob.   
  
He was about to open it when something hit him--and he paused, all of a sudden. "Hmm...something's...wrong," he mused, his forehead creased as he felt around the emotions inside the room. "Lyserg...Miss Jeanne, I think--" The door suddenly swung open, interrupting the rest of his sentence.  
  
Lyserg, Caesar and Jeanne watched with surprise as the silvery-blonde haired nun rushed out, slightly breathless, her blue eyes stricken with panic and confusion. She was blushing quite profusely, as well...  
  
"S...Sister Sarah?" Jeanne gazed at her superior with concern. "What happened? Are you alright?"  
  
"J...Jeanne!" Sister Sarah's eyes widened, regarding the younger woman as if she had only realized her presence. "...I'm fine. I'm just fine," She repeated, nodding her head vigorously. "I'm alright. I'm fine," she repeated once more, like she was trying to convince herself. "I..." She gazed around frantically. "...I'd better go. I'll see you back at the missionary house, Jeanne! Goodbye, Lyserg, Caesar!" Then, she ran off, her long hair trailing behind her, white dress floating as she whizzed past them like a frenzied bullet.  
  
Lyserg and Jeanne stared in the direction the nun went, and then, they gave each other a puzzled look. Meanwhile, Caesar had already walked inside Luc's room, cautiously taking his steps a little at a time, just in case the telekinetic suddenly gets the urge to throw him against the wall again. He felt around the room, wincing a little bit as he caught flashes of Luc's emotions. He placed it beside the emotions he had managed to catch from Sister Sarah, and, in no time at all, he was able to put the pieces of the puzzle together...and finally realized what happened.  
  
He paused abruptly as his eye caught the light-brown haired detective's form. Luc was standing in front of the bathroom sink, glaring darkly at the mirror. His face was also quite red, just like Sister Sarah's had been.   
  
"...Luc?" Jeanne asked tentatively as she and Lyserg finally entered the room. "What happened?"  
  
The windows rattled as Luc growled with frustration. Reluctantly, he turned around and walked out of the bathroom. "What are you all doing here?" He asked in a hard, icy tone.  
  
"Never mind what we're doing here," Caesar waved his question away and flashed him a meaningful look. "What have _you_ done?"  
  
"I haven't done ANYTHING!" The door slammed as Luc shouted.  
  
Caesar snorted. "Oh, REALLY?"  
  
"I HADN'T!" The windows burst open.  
  
"Then why IN THE WORLD did she RUN AWAY so suddenly? Huh?"  
  
Luc glared at him. "I don't know, DAMMIT!" He punched his fist against the closet. The four poster-bed rattled angrily. "I mean...I didn't...didn't mean to..."  
  
"Luc," Lyserg asked impatiently, "Just tell us. Why did she run off like that?"  
  
Luc didn't answer. He just stared off into space, frowning deeply.  
  
"Caesar?" Lyserg raised a brow in inquiry. "You know what happened, right?"  
  
Caesar rolled his eyes to the ceiling, sighing with exasperation at Luc. "...Yeah."  
  
"Would you care to tell us?"  
  
"Well--"  
  
"DON'T YOU DARE," Luc said in a threatening tone. "I'm warning you, Silverberg. DON'T. YOU. DARE. _Not_ a word of this from your bloody freaking mouth."  
  
Caesar exhaled. "But Luc, it's not like Sister Sarah's _not_ going to _eventually_ tell Miss Jeanne what happened. I mean, she's a holy servant," he reasoned. "She's not about to _lie_ now, is she?" He added.  
  
Luc sighed with irritation, taking turns glaring at all of them before he shook his head. "...FINE! Do whatever you want. I don't care one bloody bit." Then, with a final, deadly look at the three of them, he pulled on his coat, hailed the door open, and rushed out of the room.  
  
"Luc, where are you going?" Jeanne called out.  
  
"Out!" Was the curt reply.  
  
Lyserg and Jeanne gave each other a confused look. Then, shrugging, Lyserg turned to Caesar. "Care to tell us what happened now?"  
  
"Sure!" Caesar said cheerfully, hopping on top of Luc's four-poster. "I'll tell you..." He motioned for the two of them to come closer.  
  
Jeanne sat down on the chair beside the vanity as Lyserg sat beside Caesar on the bed. "So...what was that all about?" She gazed at him expectantly.  
  
"Well, see the thing is..." Caesar lowered his voice, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "...Luc accidentally _kissed_ Sister Sarah."  
  
"WHAT?!?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

"Well, here we are." Lyserg announced as he stepped off the motorboat and rushed back to assist Jeanne, clasping her hands firmly with his.  
  
She smiled brightly up at him. "Thank you." She gazed up at the tall, old-fashioned churchlike building of the Venice Missionary house. "I wonder if Sister Sarah got here safely..." she murmured.  
  
A sigh. "I'm sorry about what happened." He declared quietly as they walked towards the front, her hands still tightly curled up against his.  
  
"It's not your fault," Jeanne pointed out. "...And I don't think it's Luc's fault, either. Neither was it Sister Sarah's." She added. "I mean...based from what Caesar's told us, it doesn't seem like it was anyone's fault, for that matter. It was...unavoidably a product of fate."  
  
"You believe in fate?" He raised an eyebrow. "...You believe in _fate_, and you also believe in _fortune telling_? Is that why you always ask Tamao-san to give you a reading every single year?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Jeanne gave a faint nod. "I believe in a _lot_ of things. You know that." She said dryly. "Anyway...Caesar said he'd meet you back at the hotel, is that right?"  
  
Lyserg nodded. "He'll be searching around for Luc. It's about time we start working on that case." He shrugged. "We need to get Luc back on track, else we'll never get this done." He gave another sigh. "You know, Caesar and I have been praying a long time for Luc to finally meet a woman who'll be able to make him happy...but we never actually thought _she'd_ be a _nun_." He shook his head. "He's got the worst luck in the entire planet."  
  
She chuckled. "Maybe not. If we are to believe Caesar, the feeling isn't exactly one-sided..." her voice trailed off. She could feel her cheeks turning pink as she recalled the red-haired Englishman's words earlier.  
  
_"He likes her a whole lot. And the feeling's mutual, it seems." A meaningful grin. "Their feelings for each other somewhat resemble what you two have...except that theirs is in the early stages, while yours..." He paused. "Yours are much, much deeper...way beyond the Grand Canal. Way beyond the Marianas Trench."  
_   
It was obvious that, just as he was referring to Luc and Sister Sarah, he was also quite clearly referring to her and Lyserg...and she wondered about that...  
  
"So anyway, Jeanne..." She was brought back to reality as Lyserg's hands squeezed hers gently. "Are you going in or not?"  
  
"Yes. I am." She nodded, staring thoughtfully at their joined hands, an odd sort of warmth circulating inside her body, rushing from her head down to the tips of her toes. "...Will you go in with me?" She heard herself ask.  
  
"No." He said quickly, with a vigorous shake of his head. "I should get going."  
  
"You don't want to be with me anymore?" She flashed him a hurt look.  
  
"I didn't mean it like that!" He protested. "I meant...Marco-san." He winced slightly as he uttered the name. "...He might be in there, and I'm not exactly sure he'd be too thrilled to see you with me." He gazed at her helplessly. "You understand..."  
  
"...Yeah. I do." She gave a loud, forlorn sigh.  
  
"Anyway," Lyserg continued, "I'll see you again. If not here, then...back in London." He untangled one of his hands from hers, and raised it to her face, caressing her cheeks softly. "...Is that alright?"  
  
Closing her eyes, she sighed contentedly, savoring the wonderful warmth of his touch. "Uh-hm..."  
  
His other hand tightened against hers as he gave an indrawn breath. "Good." And then, he bent down...and brushed a gentle, soft kiss against her cheek. His lips lingered on her skin for quite a while. A long, long while...  
  
"G...goodbye." Jeanne could feel her heart thumping inside her chest. He hadn't let her go yet, and it seems that he had no plans of doing so anytime soon.  
  
...She didn't really mind. Her eyes were still closed, but she could feel his lips traveling from her cheek, then to her chin...and then slowly ascended, until he was touching the corners of her mouth...  
  
"Lyserg Diethyl." A low male voice uttered from behind them, sounding extremely angry. A familiar voice. A very, very, VERY familiar voice.  
  
"M...Marco-san!" The green-haired young Englishman dropped Jeanne's hand and let go of her extremely quickly, his eyes widening with alarm and fear. "I...uhm..."  
  
"Leave. _Now._" The blonde-haired former X-LAWS second-in-command said in a steely tone. "Leave, before I lose my control and kill you." He looked extremely livid.  
  
"O...okay." Lyserg gazed around him nervously, wondering where in the world he was supposed to catch a motorboat ride in this place..._there_. "J...Jeanne...I'll see you."  
  
"No, you WILL NOT." Marco approached him and clamped a hand against his shoulder. Hard. "You will leave now, and you are NEVER going to see her again. NEVER going to touch her again. NEVER going to kiss her AGAIN. And MOST of ALL--"  
  
"--Marco." Jeanne interrupted with an impatient sigh. She pulled her guardian's hand away from Lyserg's shoulder and gave him a warning look. "Stop this nonsense right now." She told him firmly.  
  
"B...but...Maiden-sama...he..." Marco swallowed, throwing Lyserg a furious glare. "He...KISSED you. He should NOT have done that. It's NOT proper. He's taken advantage of you and--"  
  
"He has NOT taken advantage of me in ANY way," She assured him hastily. "The whole time we were together, he has taken care of me and regarded me with the RESPECT that I so deserved," she stated with emphasis. "There is no need for you to go off bullying him."  
  
"But Maiden-sama--"  
  
"Marco." She flashed him a look that gave no room for an argument.  
  
"...Alright," Marco relented. With a final, dark glare at Lyserg, he stalked off towards the missionary house, huffing as he did so. "Jeanne-sama...you MUST get back inside as well," He called out over his shoulder.  
  
"I'll be right there!" Jeanne called back. Turning to Lyserg, she gave him an apologetic look. "...I have to get going," She told him. "I'm so sorry about that," she inclined her head at the direction Marco went off to. "I mean, you know how he is..."  
  
"Yes. I do." Recovering from quite a scare, courtesy of Marco, the green-haired Englishman managed a smile. "He's protective of you...almost to a point of obsession..."  
  
"Hmph." She snorted dryly. "Yes, he is." Gazing at Lyserg one last time, she told him forlornly, "I really have to go now. Thank you for everything." She walked towards him, rose up on tiptoes and brushed a soft kiss against his cheek. "...Goodbye." Then, with extreme reluctance, she pulled away and ran towards the door of the missionary house. She turned around and gave him a small wave.  
  
Lyserg waved back as he watched her enter the building. A heavy feeling suddenly overwhelmed his heart the minute she had disappeared from his sight. With a loud sigh, he shook his head, glancing one last time at the building before turning around. He turned his gaze to Morphin on his shoulder and smiled faintly. "Well...I guess we'd better get back to the hotel, then." He walked off towards the motorboat station, his gloom increasing with every step as he realized that it would probably be a long time before he sees her again.  
  
A very, very, _very_ long time.

TSUZUKU.

_**PLUG!!!**_ **Chapter 1** of **Vestige of Dreams** is now **up**! Please read! Please review! Thank you thankees!^_^

**End notes:  
**  
Second to the last chapter will be posted next week!^_^  
  
Chapter title symbolizes Marco, with reference to two tarot cards based on the reading that Tamao did for Jeanne in Celebrations [Chapter 4: The Preparations Begin]. The Pope means _ritual and routine, religious guidance, and authority._ The Hermit means _groundless suspicions about the motives of others (negative), caution, discretion, the need for prudence, counsel sought and taken, and a wise guide or spiritual mentor._  
  
_Not_ that Marco's wise, mind you...but these are the only cards in the tarot set that suited him--as compared with the cards symbolizing Lyserg.  
  
As always, please do review! Thanks a lot!^_^


	6. Chapter 6: Strength and the Star

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.  
  
Note: I'm deviating a little bit from the main fic title in this chapter, as you will see.^_^

**Chapter 6 - Strength and the Star  
**  
  
_Three weeks later  
  
Milan, Italy_

"_Grazie._" A silvery-blue haired maiden wrapped in a black hooded overcoat smiled at the manager at the counter as she took the large take-out cup of coffee.  
  
The manager nodded graciously as she handed the maiden a paper bag filled with pastries. "Compliments of the Bistro to such a beautiful young lady." She announced in Italian-accented English.  
  
The silvery-blue haired young lady, who was none other than Iron Maiden Jeanne, pinked slightly but she managed a bright smile. "_Grazie_ once again, _ Signora._" She murmured as she took the offered bag gratefully.   
  
"It is a pleasure." The middle-aged manager declared.  
  
"I have to get going." Jeanne gave a small, polite bow. "...Goodbye!" With a small wave, she turned on her heel and walked off, all the while cradling her cup of coffee with one hand, and her purse and the bag of pastries with the other.  
  
Sighing a little bit, she unsealed the cover on her cup of coffee, taking a couple of sips as she crossed the pathway towards the Bistro's exit, rustling a couple of leaves from the plant decorations as she did so. She glanced around her briefly as she continued to drink. It was almost nine in the morning, and the Bistro's inner area was completely filled, somehow indicating that the people in Milan were used to having their breakfast at around this time. The outdoor cafe, meanwhile, has been completely filled ever since she got here earlier, clearly implying that most people in Milan much preferred sitting out in the open air than indoors.  
  
It wasn't that hard to explain why the Bistro was completely filled. Aside from the fact that it was the typical breakfast time for Milan residents, the Bistro was also located right smack dab in the middle of the city's Main Street, and that says a lot on how famous the place is and how many loyal patrons it must have. Although, Jeanne wasn't exactly a loyal patron--she just came down from the hotel where she was staying in Milan and she just happened to pass by the Bistro, very much in need of coffee. However, she had no intention of buying any food from the said place at all, for she was planning to go around the city and visit the shops and it would be rather awkward to eat while walking and shopping.   
  
But as it is...she had been given free breakfast, and she was not about to let it go to waste. She needed to sit down before she eats, though.   
  
...Which presents us with the fifty-million-pound question: if the Bistro was filled up, then _where_ was she supposed to sit?  
  
Jeanne paused and made a move to replace the cover on her cup of coffee, but then, realizing that there wouldn't be much point in it, she crumpled up the cover and threw it in a nearby trash bin. Sighing, she resumed walking until she reached the door leading to the Bistro's outer area. She stepped back as a couple of young Italian men walked inside, smiling at them in acknowledgement as they greeted her good morning in their language. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling as the young men continued to stare at her as they walked away, thereby leading them to crash straight into a waiter. She shook her head ruefully as she headed out.   
  
Staring men--she and Sister Sarah got that a lot, with the nun getting a lot more stares than _she_ ever would, much to her relief. Although the attention was quite flattering, it was extremely hazardous for them--the men, that is--quite especially when Marco was around. The blonde, bespectacled man's presence was quite forboding...and his glare, if you weren't used to it, was quite synonymous to death by means of torture. Death by means of castration. She winced. Marco really _was_ too protective of her...much to the point of obsession, as Lyserg had pointed out to her a couple of weeks ago.  
  
_Lyserg._ The thought of her green-haired, green-eyed English detective...friend...made her blush, for some reason. _He_ was the only male human being in the entire planet who was...immune to Marco's death glares. Having been the main receiver of it since time immemorial, the young Englishman probably developed some sort of shield to it. _Either that_, Jeanne thought, _or it doesn't matter to him whether Marco feeds him to the vultures or sends him off on an unexpected trip to Timbuktu...just as long he gets to be with me..._she sighed with exasperation at herself. _Wishful thinking, is it not, Jeanne-sama...? Do you really think he would risk his own life just so the two of you can be together?_  
  
_Well...at least I _know _for a fact that, come hell or high water, he would do anything just to make sure I was healthy and safe from any sort of harm..._anything. _I've already proven that. The lengths he would go to just to make sure I was well out of danger...  
_  
"OOOFFF!!!" Jeanne exclaimed, quite startled as she bumped into a tall form. "Oh...oh, NO..." She looked at her hand with horror as she realized that, upon crashing into the tall form, she'd managed to drop her coffee cup straight onto the person's shirt in the process. "I am SO sorry...I mean..." She glanced down, furiously racking her brain for the proper way to say "I apologize" in Italian, and at the same time, wondering why she had forgotten her basic Italian all of a sudden. "_Gomen nasai_...wait, that's Japanese...uh, _excusez-moi_...no, _that's_ French...I mean..."  
  
A soft chuckle brought her back to reality. "It's fine, miss." A male voice assured her. "No need to translate your apology. I understood the English one quite perfectly," he added, a note of humor in his voice. "Wait, hold on a minute...you sound familiar..." The man shifted his head and peered at her face. "J...JEANNE?!?!?"  
  
"...LYSERG?!??!?" Her eyes widened as she stared back in disbelief at those familiar green eyes, that familiar face...and she could feel herself blushing profusely as she realized what she had just managed to do. "I am SO sorry about your shirt..." Grabbing him, she frantically inspected his white shirt, desperately trying to undo the damage the spill of the hot liquid had made on the white fabric. "...Wait a second," pausing, she frowned and looked up at him. "It's dry. I could have sworn..." Her voice trailed off as she realized.  
  
Lyserg smiled brightly as he inclined his head at his power spirit. "Yup. She's quick," he patted the pink fairy spirit's chin with his finger. "...Shielded me from your coffee before a droplet even got close. So don't worry about it," he added. "Oh. And Jeanne..."  
  
"Huh?" She gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Uhm...could you please let go of me? Because uh..." He glanced around, then lowered his voice. "...People are starting to stare," he told her meaningfully.   
  
"Really?" Jeanne gazed around. "Why?" She wondered blankly...then, blushed even more as she remembered: She had grabbed him earlier...and right now, her hands were still..."Oh. OH! I'm sorry," She stammered. "I mean, I..." She wondered if she would ever stop blushing.  
  
Lyserg laughed slightly. "It's fine, really," he took one of her hands and pulled her down towards the table where he was sitting. It was right in the middle, one of the tables nearest to the pathway exit, which explains how she had managed to bump into him. "Sit down," he instructed, offering the chair right across from his.  
  
"Sit down?" Jeanne echoed, looking back and forth in between the chair and Lyserg, unsure of what she supposed to do. Her mind was still trying to process everything that was happening. A while ago, she was buying coffee. She was offered a bag of pastries. She was walking out of the Bistro, thinking the whole time. And, just when her thoughts had made a sudden turn towards Lyserg...like some sort of weird coincidence, she bumped into _him._  
  
Or...was it more like...an answered prayer...?  
  
"Jeanne," Lyserg voice broke into her reverie. "Go on and sit," he gave her a semi-pleading look. "...please?" He was still standing up himself, holding the chair for her, waiting for her, like the gentleman that he was.  
  
"Oh. O...okay," She gingerly sat down on the offered chair, looking up at him and smiling gratefully. She watched him walk around the small table for two and settle himself on the other chair. "Lyserg..."  
  
He smiled. "Yes?"  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"Me?" He shrugged. "Having breakfast." He answered matter-of-factly. "Speaking of that..." He frowned ruefully at her empty take-out cup. "I'm sorry about your coffee. I should get you another one. _Signor_!" He raised his hand to a waiter that was passing by.   
  
The man rushed over and smiled. "_Si_?"  
  
"Large espresso, no sugar and cream," Lyserg told the waiter in Italian. He gave Jeanne a questioning look. "That's your usual, right?"  
  
"Y...yes." She nodded hesitantly, her heart oddly warmed at his extremely fine memory for the things she liked. "But Lyserg..."  
  
"A plate of those chocolate-cherry biscotti as well, if you please," He told the waiter once more. "...And can I get a refill of the tea?" He tapped the small, porcelain pot in the middle of the table.  
  
"_Si._" The waiter nodded.  
  
"Good. That's all. Thank you." Lyserg smiled as the waiter gave a small bow and walked off to get their orders. Then, he turned back to Jeanne. "What were you saying?"  
  
She frowned at him. "Never mind," she muttered. "...You're not going to allow me to pay for my coffee, are you?"  
  
"Nope." He grinned and shook his head. "Your breakfast is my treat. What's that?" He inclined his head at the paper bag.  
  
"Pastries." Jeanne answered. As if to prove her point, she tore open the bag to reveal about six pieces of mini fruit tartlets. "The manager gave them to me."  
  
"For _free_?" Lyserg raised an eyebrow. "I'm getting mighty suspicious of all those people who give free food around this country..."  
  
"Don't be." She admonished. "I mean, maybe it's just some sort of coincidence, but...we've been getting that a lot. Me and Sister Sarah."  
  
"What? You mean the free food?" He said incredulously. "And what, pray tell, is the catch?"  
  
"I don't know." She replied with a shrug. "Sister Sarah's been getting it a lot more than I do, though. Even when we were still in Venice...and now, here." She paused. "Speaking of which," She continued, "...what are _you_ doing here in Milan? I mean, how long have you been here?"  
  
A sigh. "Three weeks."  
  
"Three weeks? So you've been here ever since..."  
  
"Ever since that time after I said goodbye to you in Venice," Lyserg finished, smiling at the memory of her...and then, wincing as he remembered the way Marco had looked when he spotted them right in the middle of...something. He groaned mentally. He could still remember how painful Marco's hand had been when it clamped on his arm.  
  
...More importantly...he can _still_ remember how Marco had interrupted them right at that moment. He had been so close...so darn bloody CLOSE to kissing Jeanne...  
  
"So, what are you doing here?" Jeanne's voice interrupted his thoughts, which was just as well. "I mean, I know it's not my business or anything but..."  
  
"Work," He explained. "Right after I left you at the missionary house, something new came up about our case. Caesar found a new lead while he was searching for Luc. And when the three of us finally got together...well, let's just say the new information told us that we should head off straight for Milan--_here_, that is. So we did." He paused as the waiter came back with their order. "..._Grazie_," he said gratefully just as the man nodded and walked away, with his empty tray on hand. "Anyway, we finally solved the case yesterday." He sighed, relaxing in his seat. "Let me tell you, I am sure GLAD that our case is over. It's got to be one of the hardest we've ever come across with," he shook his head, and then, leaned against the table, studying her critically. "What about you? What are _you_ doing here?" He gave her a bright smile.  
  
She smiled back, raising the cup of coffee to her lips. "The sisters and the rest of us missionaries are taking a vacation. We've worked so hard for the past couple of weeks, so...Directress Estella told us that we could tour around Italy if we wanted," She paused, taking a long drink from her cup. "I've been here with Sister Sarah since yesterday. We're supposed to come back at the end of this week...so we still have five days."  
  
"Where are the others?" Lyserg wanted to know. "I mean...where's...where's..."  
  
"...Marco?" Jeanne supplied dryly. "He's probably back in London as of this moment. He was reluctant to leave me here, but..." she shrugged, taking a small, dainty bite from a strawberry tartlet. "I think it was an urgent order from Directress Estella. Funny though, he's the only one who got the order." She frowned. "I mean, if it was something about missionary activities or whatever, then Sister Sarah and I should have gotten the order as well. But it's really strange..." She popped the last of the tartlet into her mouth.  
  
"Hmm..." The green-haired Englishman took a long drink of his tea, visibly relieved that Marco wasn't around to scare him off away from Jeanne. He wondered why he was _still_ so afraid of Marco, anyway. _He_ was a child no more, and he was quite younger, stronger, _and_ somewhat taller than the blonde man...so why was he still so afraid?   
  
_Well, no sense worrying about that now. The important thing is--he's not here. NOT HERE. Which means, I can spend several more days with Jeanne...without the thought that Marco-san will be just around the corner, ready to skin me alive if I tried anything..._not_ that I ever would...  
_  
"So," Jeanne's voice broke his musings. "...where's Caesar?"  
  
Lyserg chuckled. "He's just around the corner, I'm sure," he answered. "He told me this morning that he was going Bistro-hopping in search for the best chocolate cookies in Milan," he added dryly. "He said he'll be taking home about a dozen for me and Luc." He shook his head. "He should really meet Horo-horo-kun sometime..." He paused to take another drink of his tea. "Anyway...what about you? Where's Sister Sarah?"  
  
"Funny you should ask," the silvery-blue haired maiden took a piece of biscotti and dipped it into her coffee. Then, she took a small bite. "...I don't know where she is. When I woke up this morning, she was already gone. She forgot to leave me a note. It must have been urgent." She sighed. "Speaking of Sister Sarah...where's Luc?"  
  
"Oh--him," Lyserg frowned thoughtfully. "...Luc. He's...well, uh..."

*~*~*~*~*~*

A light-brown haired man in a dark green trench coat was leaning against the wall beside the door of what looked like a small chapel. He was taking turns glancing at his watch, then sighing, and then, gazing at something inside the chapel through the door, which was slightly ajar.  
  
Or, more correctly...at _someone_.  
  
The door opened with a slight creak, and at once, the light-brown haired man stood up straight in alert as a silvery-blonde haired woman wearing an immaculate white dress got out, cradling a white purse in her left hand and with a silver rosary wrapped around the other.  
  
The woman spotted the man standing by the door, and she froze for about half a second. Then, taking a deep breath, she pivoted and made a move to leave. But before she could take even one step forward, a hand clamped on her wrist.  
  
She gave an indrawn breath, her heart pounding frantically as she felt the rush of electricity flowing back and forth from his body to hers, courtesy of that little skin contact. "Please let go of me," she managed in a whisper.  
  
"No, Sarah." The man said firmly, quietly. "...I won't let you go. Not until you hear me out. Back in Venice, you never gave me a chance to explain--"  
  
"There's _nothing_ to explain, Luc," the woman, who was none other than Sister Sarah, interrupted. "It was a mistake."  
  
"Yes, it was. _My_ mistake," Luc admitted. "Which is why I want to apologize to you. I shouldn't have done what I did."  
  
Sister Sarah turned around to face him, her wrist still entrapped in his hold. "There is no need to apologize. That was...it was..." She shook her head, her face flooding with color. She took a deep breath. "...something that never would have happened if I hadn't been...willing..." she sighed, meeting his hazel-green eyes with her bright blue ones. "You know that as well as I do."  
  
"NO." Luc shook his head vigorously, his fingers sliding forward to clasp hers. "It was _my_ fault. Just mine, _not_ yours." He gave a long, repenting sigh. "...I could have stopped myself. It was just that...when I stood up from the bed and you were right there, in front of me...and _so_ close...I just...couldn't help myself," he confessed. "You _didn't_ do anything--"  
  
"Exactly," She interrupted. "I _didn't_ do _anything_. I just stood there and allowed you to...to..." She shook her head helplessly. "I allowed you to...kiss me, and I...I..." her voice trailed off, and the rest of the words she hadn't been able to say echoed inside her head. _I kissed you back._  
  
"Sarah..." Luc's face softened, and he made a move to touch her face...  
  
"NO." She turned her head away and closed her eyes, allowing a lone tear to fall down her cheek. "Luc, this is...this is all wrong. You made a mistake. I made a mistake. We _both_ made a mistake. That kiss...was a mistake."  
  
"It was," Luc nodded in agreement. "But Sarah, I...I can't...I'm sorry," he raked his hand against his hair with frustration. "It's just that...I've never felt this way...about anyone...in my entire life..." He held her hand even tighter against his.  
  
"I..." Sister Sarah took a deep breath, her hand weakly surrendering, giving in to his touch. "Luc...I know." _I feel the same way. I feel the same way, but..._ "It's just that...I'm a nun, Luc."  
  
"Damn bloody hell, I KNOW that," He muttered, looking up at the sky and viciously glaring at the Heavens. _Why me? Why HER? Damn you!_  
  
"We should end this," She declared in a choked voice. "...We should end this right now, before it's too late..." _Before we fall even deeper._  
  
"Sarah...no...we can't just..." He started to protest, but she squeezed his hand, silencing him.  
  
"It's inevitable." She whispered. Then, leaning towards him, she rose up on tiptoes and brushed a soft, brief kiss against his cheek. "Goodbye, Luc." Turning around, she untangled her hand from his and ran away, as fast as her legs could carry her. Before he could see the tears that were starting to fall down her cheeks.  
  
Luc stared after her, his heart and mind arguing over whether he should run after her, or allow her to leave. Allow her to walk away from him.   
  
After a couple of minutes, his heart and mind agreed that he should _not_ run after her--not now. Not while she was feeling extremely confused--like he was. He glanced down at the silver rosary which she had somehow managed to leave with him. Her precious silver rosary. Her precious _God_.  
  
He looked up at the sky and glared once more. _Of all the bloody men that existed, why did it have to be You? Why did You have to become my rival, my competition...for her heart?_  
  
_Most of all...why did You have to come first? Why? Why couldn't it have been ME?!?  
_  
_...Why?  
_  
_Damn You._ "If You think for one second that I'm giving up, You've got another thing coming," He called out to the Heavens. "You HEAR ME? I've finally found the chance to be happy...and if You THINK You can take that away from me just because you had her first, You are SADLY mistaken." He tightened his hold on the rosary...the only thing he had of HER. The only thing he had to remember her by was something she used to pray to her beloved _God_.  
  
_I'll take what I can get._ He placed the rosary inside his coat pocket, near his heart. Then, looking up to the Heavens again, he called out, "I won't give up."   
  
Glaring one last time, he walked away from the chapel, to nowhere in particular.  
  
_Even if it's futile...I won't._

*~*~*~*~*~*

"So he disappeared immediately after your case ended?" Jeanne asked as she and Lyserg walked, side-by-side, along Milan's Main Street. They had finished breakfast about an hour ago, and were currently touring what was also known as the main shopping district of the city--thanks to the silvery-blue haired maiden's insistence.  
  
"Uh-huh. But Caesar says he's just somewhere around here." Lyserg replied. For his part, he wanted to browse along the antique and book shops. He wasn't very much interested in clothes, or shoes, or accessories. But he just couldn't resist her pleas...so he had grudgingly relented and allowed her to drag him inside each and every clothes store, shoe store, and jewelry, perfume and accessory store. Although she was Iron Maiden Jeanne, _she_ was still a woman, and, just like any other woman, she was very much in love with shopping.  
  
Although, much to Lyserg's relief, missionary values, her being Holy Iron Maiden Jeanne, and Sister Sarah's advices made sure that she didn't spend her money on every other item in every stall, _that_ didn't stop her from making a couple of purchases. As of late, the green-haired Englishman was carrying around six bags, all of them containing things that she either bought for herself, for Sister Sarah, for him...and even for Marco.  
  
"Ooh, Lyserg, look! Look at that!" Jeanne's cheerful voice brought him back to reality. She was pointing at the window of a shop selling little girl's clothes, shoes, and accessories. "Wow...those clothes are BEAUTIFUL...and look at those SHOES...they're...WOW..." She murmured in awe. She pulled on his hand and nudged his head towards the store window. "Take a look."  
  
And he looked.  
  
And he had to admit, the clothes were beautiful. They were lilac-pink, with exquisite patterns hand-embroidered all over. The matching shoes were of the same quality, and color. Handmade as well. Any young girl who would wear these things would definitely end up looking and feeling like a princess.   
  
And yes, he can definitely envision those clothes being worn by a certain little girl he knew. A little girl by the name of...  
  
"Keiko-chan." He and Jeanne proclaimed in unison.  
  
"I wonder if they have it in her size..." Jeanne murmured wistfully as she continued to stare at the store window.  
  
"We can check it out, if you want," he suggested.  
  
Her eyes brightened. "Can we? Good!" She clapped her hands together, then grabbed his wrist. "...Let's go!"  
  
Lyserg sighed with resignation as he allowed her to pull him towards the shop, wondering at the back of his mind what he had gotten himself into.

*~*~*~*~*~*

_More than five days later  
  
London_

A dark green car pulled over in front of a tall, churchlike building. Moments later, the door on the driver's side opened, and a tall figure with green hair and wearing a green overcoat stepped out. The tall, green-haired figure, who was none other than Lyserg Diethyl, rushed towards the other side and subsequently opened both the front passenger door and the back one.  
  
"Thank you." Iron Maiden Jeanne took Lyserg's offered hand and stepped out of the car. She peered at the back seat, noticing that the silvery-blonde haired nun had not moved an inch and was still looking out the window, with an extremely sad expression on her face. "...Sister Sarah? We're here."  
  
"What?" Sister Sarah turned her head to gaze at Jeanne. "We are?" She asked blankly as she looked around. "Where are we?"  
  
"We're in front of Westminster, Sister," Lyserg supplied helpfully, exchanging a brief, knowing look with Jeanne. "Remember? We just came from the airport, and I offered to drive you and Jeanne here," he added. Then, lowering his voice, he told Jeanne, "I'll just lug out your suitcases."  
  
Sister Sarah's eyes followed Lyserg's figure as he disappeared towards the back compartment of the car. "...He drove us here?"  
  
"Yes. He did." Jeanne answered with a nod. She reached over and squeezed the nun's hand, giving her a sympathetic look.   
  
When Jeanne had gotten back to the hotel that day when she bumped into Lyserg in Milan, she had found the nun staring out at the balcony, with a confused and extremely heart-wrenching expression on her face. Although she had tried everything in her power to cheer the nun up, it had been futile, for the nun was inconsolable. She stayed that way all throughout the remaining time they spent in Milan, and even later on when they got back to Venice...as well as on that whole plane ride back to London. Sister Sarah's sadness was very catching...and during the plane trip, the rest of the missionaries and the nuns were all pretty quiet, like her. For Jeanne's part..._she_ would have ended up as sad as everyone else...if not for the fact that Lyserg was with her on the plane, right beside her, cheering her up.  
  
Yes, that's right. Although he was supposed go back to London much earlier with Luc and Caesar, Lyserg had bailed out on his two fellow detectives and told them to go on home without him. He had done this so that he could be with her longer. He had extended his stay in Italy for _her_ sake.  
  
For her sake...  
  
Finally becoming aware of what was happening around her, Sister Sarah gave a sigh. "I'm sorry I wasn't such a good company to both of you..." Her voice trailed off. She tossed her hair gracefully, and remained sitting on the backseat of the car, her hands folded in her lap.  
  
"It's nothing," Jeanne assured her with a smile. "We can't force you to be happy if you really don't feel like it." She paused. "...Anyway, at least we're home now." She added brightly. "Sister, you stay here. I'll just help Lyserg out with our suitcases." Then, she disappeared behind the compartment where the green-haired Englishman was lugging out their baggage.  
  
Lyserg smiled as he handed her a medium-sized box. "Keiko-chan's clothes and accessories," he announced.  
  
"Thanks." Jeanne took the package gratefully and set it down. "Where's the box of glass figurines we bought in Venice?"  
  
He gave her a look. "I had them delivered, remember? They'll get here tomorrow."  
  
"Oh, yeah." She cocked her head. "I must have forgotten. I got worried about Sister Sarah..."  
  
"It's alright." He loaded out the last suitcase. "I'll take the glassware, you take Keiko-chan's gift. We can have them delivered to Funbarigaoka before the reunion."  
  
"Okay." Jeanne nodded. "Thanks. I'll do that...Sister Sarah?" She gazed in surprise as the nun, who had finally gotten out of the car, gave her a faint smile and picked up her suitcase.  
  
"Lyserg, thank you." Sister Sarah said gratefully as held up belongings. "I'll head inside now." She started to walk towards the door of their missionary house...when abruptly, she stopped, dropped her suitcase on the ground, and rushed hastily inside the building.  
  
"Sister Sarah, what...?" Jeanne stared in confusion at the nun's fallen belongings, and then, at the direction where she disappeared. "What in the world is going on?" She wondered out loud.  
  
"Why?" Lyserg walked a step beside her, carrying her packages. He looked around. "Where's Sister Sarah?"  
  
"She ran inside the missionary house," Jeanne inclined her head towards the door. "But she left all her things here." She frowned. "It's strange. She was holding them all, and then she suddenly dropped them right in the middle of...wait a second, was that LUC?" She stared in disbelief as a familiar-looking figure in a dark green trench coat rushed inside the missionary house. "What is _he_ doing here?"  
  
"...Running after her," A familiar male voice cheerfully replied.  
  
"CAESAR?!?" Lyserg exclaimed with surprise. "What are _you_ doing here?"  
  
The redhead shrugged. "Helping him out," he answered breezily, clearly referring to Luc. "I knew you were gonna get here today, and he wormed it out of me." He rolled his eyes. "He knew Sister Sarah was with you...and he's _determined_," he added meaningfully. He walked towards the nun's things and started picking them up. "I'll bring these to her. I have to follow Luc, anyway. Need to make sure he wouldn't do anything rash...such as destroy all the statues of God and the saints inside your missionary house." He told them with a grin. "...Anyway, I'll leave you off to say your goodbyes to each other. Lyserg, don't do anything I wouldn't do, hear?" And with a final, conspiratorial wink, he took off towards the missionary house, carrying Sister Sarah's belongings.  
  
Lyserg and Jeanne stared after Caesar, disbelief written in both of their faces.  
  
Then, Lyserg sighed. "Didn't think he'd actually go _this_ far." He commented as the two of them walked towards the doorstep of the missionary house. "I feel for him, but..."  
  
"She's a nun," Jeanne supplied, frowning thoughtfully. "And well...although Sister Sarah may have certain...feelings for him, I don't think she'd ever give up being a nun."  
  
"I still wish him all the luck, though," Lyserg commented as he carefully placed her baggage at the doorstep of the building. "...So. Here we are." He announced, smiling at her. "I'd accompany you inside, but...you know..." He gestured helplessly at the door.  
  
Jeanne sighed sadly. "I know. Marco...right." She looked up at him. "This is goodbye again, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes it is, unfortunately." He raised his hand and patted her cheek. Then, he leaned over and gave her a brief kiss. She felt his breath on her skin for an unforgettable moment...but he pulled away abruptly, almost as if he knew he was doing something forbidden. "I'll see you again. But for now...goodbye." He muttered as he turned around and started to walk away.  
  
Before he could take a step further, Jeanne pulled on his wrist. "Lyserg...wait."  
  
He froze in mid-tracks. "Jeanne, what...?" When he turned his head to face her, his eyes widened as a soft kiss fell on his lips. It was short and very brief, that he hardly felt it.   
  
...Did it even actually happen?   
  
Had she_ really_ kissed _him_?  
  
"Goodbye." Jeanne pulled away and turned around before he could see her face. She was blushing profusely. She had only intended to give him a kiss on the cheek...but he had to turn around. He just _had _to turn around...  
  
But this doesn't count as her first kiss. Nope, this _definitely_ doesn't count as her first kiss. _Definitely not._   
  
It was entirely too short. She didn't even have time to feel anything...or contemplate anything...  
  
"I'll see you." She whispered one final time as she opened the door to the missionary house and rushed inside without looking back at him.  
  
Lyserg stared after her, his mind still processing what just happened. His brows furrowed in bewilderment, and he raised his hand subconsciously, touching his fingers to his lips.  
  
Then, realizing he was acting like a lovesick teenager, he shook his head and walked back towards his car. He hopped into the driver's seat and drove towards the agency, wondering if he was going to be able to get any work done today.

TSUZUKU.

**End notes:  
**  
(Um...this sounds a little more like a cliffhanger than the previous chapter, doesn't it?)  
  
Epilogue coming up next!^_^  
  
If you guys still remember, right after bumping into each other in Venice, falling over the Grand Canal, and then parting (in Venice), Lyserg and Jeanne saw each other again in Milan sometime after. This was mentioned somewhere in Celebrations [Chapter 7: The Celebrations Continue]. So uh...the very, very, very long time Lyserg was referring to in the previous chapter was actually...just 3 weeks.^^ Although he never expected that he'd actually see her again so soon, did he? Neither did Jeanne, for that matter.^_^   
  
Chapter title symbolizes Lyserg with reference to the other two tarot cards based on the reading Tamao did for Jeanne in Celebrations [Chapter 4: The Preparations Begin]. Strength means _courage, self-control, the virtue of Fortitude, the power of love, control of passion against one's baser instincts, determination, generosity, strength and power under control, energy, resolve, and reconciliation._ The Star means _fresh hope and renewal, healing of old wounds, hope, renewal of faith and hope, spiritual love, a mental and physical broadening of horizons, promise and fulfillment, inspiration, vigor, confidence, and protection._  
  
And uhm...I'm Catholic, so if you are...please excuse me for exploring around the subject of a nun falling in love with a detective. And please excuse Luc for cursing God. He's just upset.^^;;;  
  
Like it? Love it? Hate it? Please do let me know. Drop me a review, onegai?^_^


	7. Epilogue: Happy Christmas!

**The Venice Incident  
by Apple-chan  
**  
Disclaimer: insert witty disclaimer remark here  
  
LysergXJeanne. Waff, fluff, maybe a bit of angst, and a really annoying Marco. Set approximately 10 or so years after the Anime (so Lyserg's about 22 and Jeanne's 18). Set in Venice, Italy. Falling over a gondola into the Grand Canal: disaster, or blessing in disguise? We'll find out.^_^  
  
Spoilers: The whole Anime series, and I think the first half of the Celebrations Arc. It is absolutely necessary to have at least gone that far in order to get this, else everything will be extremely confusing.  
  
Warnings: PG-13 for adult situations and mild swearing.

**Epilogue - Happy Christmas!  
**  
  
_Christmas, two years later  
  
Diethyl Mansion, London_

Cradling a half-filled wine glass in her hand, twenty-year-old Iron Maiden Jeanne watched the bright, silvery snowflakes fall from the sky, and travel down to the second floor windowpanes, right in front of her very eyes. She observed as several of the little patterned white objects paused for about thirty seconds at the glass, and then, they floated, fluttered slowly downwards, like little sheets of white paper cut-outs, to the grand front patio of the Diethyl Mansion.  
  
A soft smile played upon her lips as a female figure with long silvery-blonde hair, wrapped in a white silk cloak, glided towards the front steps of the patio, to the garden, her bright blue eyes gazing up at the sky. Another figure--male, taller, and with light-brown hair this time, followed the silvery-blonde haired one soon after, holding a dark green coat in his arms. Moving a step closer until he was directly behind her, the light-brown haired man placed the coat gently around the silvery-blonde haired woman. And then, going further, he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her blonde head. She leaned against him, tilting her head and smiling up at him, her hands reaching out to stroke his face. Returning her smile, he clasped her hands with his, and then, slowly bent down...and captured her mouth in a long, sweet kiss.  
  
Jeanne chuckled slightly as she watched this whole scene unfold. She took a long drink from her wine glass, musing all the while over the events that had taken place ever since that time when they had all seen each other in Venice, two years ago. In particular--the fated meeting of the silvery-blonde haired Sister Sarah and the light-brown haired Luc. The nun and the detective.  
  
Sister Sarah...rather, _Sarah_, that is...and Luc. Ever since that first meeting, they've been thrown together quite a number of times, by means of coincidences, prolonged rainstorms, instances involving chance...and on certain occasions, through Luc's incredible persistence. Persistence, patience, and perseverance that could rival those of the strongest warrior ever known. Persistence that would go all the way to the ends of the Universe. Patience that knows no limits...unmindful of futility, unheeding of the impossible. And...a perseverance that never fails. In Luc's vocabulary, forfeit and defeat did not exist...not even if the rival happened to be the ever-knowing, all-powerful God--as it was, in his case.  
  
Anyway, after more than twenty-four months of chasing, pleading, waiting, and reasoning, with the help of Lyserg and Caesar, Luc's efforts finally paid off last October, when Sister Sarah officially submitted her resignation from the Westminster vocation to the High Directress. After six long years of service, sacrifice, and offering her life for the love of God, the silvery-blonde haired woman gave it all up for the sake of love.   
  
Yes, indeed--_love_. Throughout the course of those two years, Sarah had clearly observed Luc's unceasing and tireless methods to win her heart, and without even knowing it, the deep, odd affection she's always had for the detective gradually developed into something more...and the inevitable happened: She had finally fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with him.  
  
The High Directress Estella had been reluctant in allowing Sarah to quit the nunnery, and would have gone as far as consult the Archdiocese of the Church of England or even the Pope himself, if not for the dauntless determination that was written all over the nun's face when she had given her resignation. Well...that, and probably also the fact that the whole Westminster might be afraid of what Luc was capable of doing if _they_ don't allow Sarah to make her own decisions. It was very much clear that the detective was truly, madly, deeply in love with the nun, considering the lengths he had already gone through just for her sake. And since he already knew then that Sarah reciprocated his feelings, prohibiting her to quit from the vocation would have meant risking being subjected to the ire of, not just Luc, but the whole division of the detective agency he was a part of, Lyserg and Caesar included--them, who had been incredibly supportive of Luc and Sarah's relationship from the start (since practically the whole lot of them were people with extraordinary abilities who weren't much partial to God and the Church).  
  
For Jeanne's part, she had been content with being Sarah's main pillar of strength and emotional shock absorber during those two years. She was witness to the former nun's hesitation and reluctance to admit her feelings during that first year, and she was witness to the transition Sarah had made within herself during the days, weeks, and months that followed after. The silvery-blonde haired woman had gone from shy, unsure, confused, and sad...to confident, determined, decided...and extremely happy. Extremely in love...and it was all because of Luc. Jeanne was happy for her former superior...and of course, the fact that she got to see Lyserg more often than usual (being that he was Luc's constant companion in visiting Sarah) just contributed to her happiness twenty-thousand fold.  
  
And...the fact that Marco was safely tucked away in Egypt at that time, unable to interrupt them, made everything all the more perfect.   
  
Jeanne took another drink from her almost-empty glass, enjoying the immaculate white winter, her eyes darting occasionally to Luc and Sarah, who were still kissing down below, their arms wrapped around each other, both of them oblivious to the falling snow all around them. Sarah's hand moved up around Luc's neck, caressing his hair...and the glare of the moonlight shone brightly on the slender, diamond-encrusted band on the former nun's ring finger. Luc had proposed to Sarah about two weeks ago, and their wedding was to take place at the end of December. Jeanne could feel herself grinning as she remembered the event surrounding Luc's proposal.   
  
After officially quitting the vocation, Sarah had remained a missionary, assisting Jeanne and everyone else with the activities in the Church. That day, Luc had rushed inside the missionary house like a whirlwind, took Sarah's hand, and, after several deep breaths, announced to everyone that after much thought and contemplation, he had decided that, now that the love of his life was a free woman, he wanted to be able to spend the rest of his life with her in the most ultimate sense, and as soon as possible. He did not give Sarah the time to react as he slipped the engagement ring on her finger and declared that he would love her for always.   
  
After that, Sarah had merely nodded, the surprise evident in her face as she stared at the ring, her mind still obviously processing what just happened. When she had finally realized, she had run towards Luc's side and jumped into his arms. At the time, the startled Luc had just finished announcing to the whole world that it was about time a certain fellow detective of his by the name of Lyserg Diethyl got his act together and ask his dearly beloved Jeanne to marry him already, thereby ending everyone's misery. He had punctuated this with a pointed look at Jeanne, and at Lyserg--who was at the missionary house that day to pick her up. Anyway, he was abruptly stopped from saying anything more when Sarah had proclaimed in her soft, beautiful voice that yes, yes indeed, she'll marry him. He and his newly-acquired fiancée had exited the missionary house right after that to celebrate their engagement somewhere, leaving Lyserg, Jeanne, and everyone else to deeply contemplate over what Luc had just said, not about him and Sarah, but about Lyserg and Jeanne. And marriage.  
  
Upon that final memory, Jeanne gave a small, wistful sigh. Love was one thing, marriage was...quite another. Finding time to be with Lyserg these past couple of days had been extremely difficult, owing to the fact that Marco just got back home, incredibly healthy and alive, newly-returned from Egypt. She had been under tight surveillance this past week...and it was a wonder she was even able to go to this Christmas party that Lyserg was hosting for all of his friends. But then again, she had only been allowed to go because Marco and a couple of the sisters and missionary volunteers were with her. And for the early duration of this party, Marco wouldn't leave her side alone for even a second, thereby preventing Lyserg from even inhaling the scent of a single strand of hair from her head. If Marco even left her side, it was during those times when he was absolutely certain that the green-haired young detective was too busy to approach her.  
  
However...Marco's presence didn't stop the two of them from communicating, though. For one thing, Caesar was there to be their telepathic messenger, and for another, she and Lyserg only needed their eyes and eyes alone to able to speak to each other wordlessly. Having been officially together, and Marco-free for more than a whole year enabled them to practice wordless, unspoken communication.   
  
Ever since earlier today, they have been speaking wordlessly to each other...and she had been feeling a sense of deep anticipation inside her, because of the meaningful glances he kept giving her each and every time they were able to catch each other's eye. As of the moment, Marco wasn't anywhere near her...maybe because Lyserg was downstairs, too busy entertaining the rest of his guests to bother about her. She wondered if Caesar had already told him where _she_ was. She wondered if _he_--Lyserg, that is--_might_ be planning something...something _special_. For her. For the two of them.  
  
_...Marriage._ Somehow, that word still hovered above her mind, and she didn't even know why. Well...maybe she _did_ have an idea why. The subject of marriage had come up in between her and Lyserg a million times than she could count, but neither of them had ever really seriously thought about it. Maybe they didn't have to. Maybe they couldn't, now that one of the greatest obstacles to their complete happiness was back. Marco would probably say "over his dead body," if ever Lyserg gets the inclination to ask her hand for marriage. She wondered if _he_ had ever seriously thought about it...because she was certainly thinking about it seriously now. Maybe she can ask him, instead of the other way around. After all, she already knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, and maybe he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her too, so the only thing they had to do was make it all formal, right...?  
  
A strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist, startling her for about half a second...but she sighed contentedly upon realizing who it was, and her whole being melted blissfully against him. "Did Caesar tell you where I was...?" She murmured questioningly, inclining her head slightly to look up at him.  
  
"Uh-hm." Lyserg's breath felt warm against her skin as he kissed the side of her neck. "He said you were broadcasting so loudly that he could hardly hear his own thoughts." He chuckled, tapping her now-empty goblet of wine thoughtfully. "I do believe that's your fourth glass, is it not?"  
  
"Why, yes it is. How did you know?" She gave him a sweet smile.  
  
"I guessed." His lips moved to brush a kiss to her cheek. "...I can tell by the ways your cheeks flush." His lips traveled even further to kiss the corners of her mouth. "...I can still remember that time at the Onsen, the year before. How drunk you had gotten..." Finally, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "If you get _that_ drunk again this time around, I'll end up carrying you to bed again..."  
  
Jeanne chuckled dryly. "And is that supposed to be bad for _you_?" She murmured, turning her head to receive his kiss fully.  
  
"I didn't say that." He countered defensively as he kissed her once again, longer this time. "I'll definitely enjoy having you in bed with me, but...Marco-san..." His voice trailed off.  
  
"Lyserg..." She turned around to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "This has nothing to do with him."  
  
"No. No, it doesn't," He agreed, tightening his hold around her. "But it's necessary to get his permission."  
  
"Get his permission to _sleep_ with _me_?" Jeanne gave him an incredulous look. "I decide what to do with my body, _not_ him!" She frowned darkly. "And besides...even if we've actually come...too _close_ to reaching _that_ point more times than we can ever count, you've never been anything less than honorable to me..." Her face softened. "Even if it's already hurting you, you've always been such a gentleman and I--" A finger pressed against her lips, silencing the rest of her sentence.  
  
"That's the thing, Jeanne," Lyserg confessed. "I'm...I'm tired of being a gentleman. I am darn bloody _tired_ of it," he declared with conviction. "I...I want you, and you want me, and we both want each other, but I respect and honor and love you too much to do it just like that." He took a deep breath. "I have too much values...I have too much self-control, and I can't stand the way that long-haired lunatic bastard twin brother of Yoh-kun's keeps on saying I've taken over the cowardly throne Ren-kun left when he got married."  
  
"Lyserg...what are you saying?" She gave him a puzzled look. He was ranting. He usually ranted when he was nervous. What exactly was he trying to say?  
  
"I don't _know_!" He burst out with frustration. "I mean...I uh..." He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, exasperated at himself. He had planned this so well. He had talked about this with Luc and Caesar. Why in the world was he losing his nerve right now? "Jeanne, what I'm trying to say is...oh, CRAP, I give up! Morphin! I need you!" Pulling away from her, he summoned his power spirit impatiently and unleashed his pendulum from its haven.  
  
Morphin flew up on top of his hand, smiled at Jeanne, and gave her master a questioning look. "...Help me out here, please? Do what we talked about, alright?" He pleaded to the pink fairy spirit.  
  
Morphin gave a sweet smile, fluttering above Lyserg's head as if to say yes, and then, she fused with the crystal pendulum.   
  
"Lyserg, what are you..." The expression on Jeanne's face was priceless as she watched the love of her life wave his hand around, suspending the crystal object in midair, then, making it zigzag in front of them, forming a specific pattern that was brighter than the sun, shimmering inside the whole room. After a couple of minutes, as the pattern was completely finished, his hand stopped, and so did the pendulum.   
  
Then, nodding his head towards the pattern, he sighed. "I'm sorry," he told her quietly. "...I just couldn't say it out loud. Maybe...maybe Hao's right. Maybe I really _am_ a coward..."  
  
"No, you're not." She turned his head towards her and leveled her eyes with his. "You're not a coward. You're just..." she gazed back at the pattern that his pendulum and oversoul formed. A pattern which spelled out words that she'd been wanting to hear from him, for a long time. "...unique," she declared. "One of a kind. And I don't think I'd ever want you to be anything else." She smiled wistfully. "And when we get married, I really hope you'll never change. I hope you'll always remain as the boy, the teenager, and the man I fell in love with." She rose up on tiptoes and kissed him.  
  
Lyserg kissed her back briefly, his arms automatically sliding around her waist once again. "...Is that a yes?" He gave her a hopeful look.  
  
Jeanne chuckled. "That depends. What is it you were asking again?" There was a teasing note in her voice.  
  
"Well...you know..." He gestured at the shimmering words his pendulum formed. "That."  
  
"...Will you read it aloud for me?" She gave him a sweet smile.   
  
Lyserg paused. And then he gave a brief, hesitant nod. "Uhm...Jeanne," he began, "I've loved you my whole life...and I...uh..." he scratched his head and gave her a sheepish look. "Well, to cut it short...will you marry me?"  
  
Jeanne nodded, smiling brightly at him. "Yes. I will. _Of course_ I will." She snuggled closer in his arms.   
  
"Really?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, REALLY."  
  
He heaved a sigh of relief. "Good. I mean, wonderful. I mean--" Lyserg never got to finish the rest of his sentence because at that moment, her mouth had captured his in a long, sweet kiss. He surrendered himself to the kiss wholly, wanting nothing more than to prolong everything that was happening between them for the rest of his life. It has never felt this good...never felt this wonderful.  
  
They broke apart, moments later, both breathless. He touched his forehead with hers, gazing deeply into her eyes. "I love you." They both declared, in unison.  
  
"I love you too." They said again at the same time.   
  
Lyserg chuckled, kissing her briefly once again before turning his head to his power spirit. "Morphin, the ring."  
  
The pattern of words formed by the pendulum gradually vanished in the mist as Morphin fluttered towards her master and dropped a tiny maroon box into his hand. He smiled gratefully as the fairy spirit floated happily towards his bedroom. "Just to make this official," he told Jeanne with a smile. He opened the box to reveal a slender, white-gold band encrusted with lots of tiny diamonds. He gently slipped it onto her ring finger, kissing her hand reverently as he did so. "...What do you think?"  
  
Jeanne held up her hand and gazed at the beautiful band with awe. "It's beautiful..." she murmured breathlessly. "Thank you."  
  
"Glad you liked it," He pulled her close against him, stroking her hair with his fingers and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "...Not even Marco-san can stop us now," he declared emphatically, before kissing her even more deeply.  
  
At the mention of the name, Jeanne froze. "...Marco." Her eyes widened, and gazed around her frantically, in search of her guardian. "Lyserg...where is he?"  
  
A grin. "Downstairs. He's being held captive by Caesar and the rest of our friends." He added meaningfully.  
  
"Did you plan this?" She gave him a curious look.  
  
"...Kind of." Lyserg answered with a sheepish smile. "I mean...Caesar and his brother, and Luc and his brother and I did..."  
  
"And does Marco _know_ about this?"  
  
"Yeah. He does." Lyserg nodded. "I told you, I asked him first. Had to make sure he wouldn't do anything to stop me from proposing..."  
  
"How did you manage to convince him?" She wondered.  
  
"Well uh..." The green-haired Englishman laughed. "It's kind of funny, actually..."

~*Flashback: Several Days Ago*~

"You WILL NOT marry HER!"  
  
"...WHAT THE BLOODY F**K?!? Lyserg, you want me to just kill him? Because you know, that's bound to make everything a LOT easier." Luc flexed his knuckles and, while sitting down, he threw the blonde, bespectacled man towards the wall of the makeshift torture chamber--a place they had set up in the detective agency especially for _him_.   
  
Lyserg gave his friend a warning look as he tightened his pendulum around Marco to break the man's fall. "We can't kill him. Jeanne wouldn't like that." Then, turning to Caesar, he asked, "...Is he still after my blood?"  
  
The redhead stretched out his arms and yawned. "He'll _always_ be after your blood, Lyserg." He settled down on his seat and watched Marco with a calm, cheerful expression on his face.  
  
Lyserg sighed with resignation. "Marco-san," he began, "if you would just _ please_ cooperate with me--"  
  
"_Cooperate_?" Marco interrupted with a dry, sarcastic laugh. "Lyserg-kun, you have me _bound_. You and your friends went short of kidnapping me. And you expect me to COOPERATE?" He ended in a shout. "I can sue you for this."  
  
"Oh, _yeah_?" Luc raised an eyebrow, folding his arms arrogantly across his chest. "In case you forgot, _we're_ detectives. The police come to _us_. They consult _us_." He flashed Marco a triumphant look. "If you sue us, _ who_ do you _think_ they'll believe--us, or _you_?"  
  
"I have _proof_."  
  
"No he doesn't!" Caesar piped up cheerfully. "He's bluffing."  
  
Marco glowered at him. "How do _you_ know?"  
  
Caesar smiled sweetly. "Empathy." He answered matter-of-factly.  
  
"What THE--"  
  
"Marco-_san_," Lyserg interrupted impatiently, "...can't you just cooperate with me so that we can get this over and _done_ with? I mean, _God_ knows how much time we've already wasted--"  
  
"_Unhand_ me this _instant_, Lyserg-kun," Marco demanded in between gritted teeth, absolute ire lacing his voice. "Unhand me, or I _swear_, Jeanne-sama will hear about this."  
  
"OKAY THAT DOES IT!" Luc stood up and glared menacingly at the blonde man. "I say we kill this bloody git right _now_, Lyserg."  
  
"I agree," Caesar announced, rising up as well and resting an arm around Lyserg's shoulder. Leaning forward, he said in a low tone, "If we don't do _ some_thing now, this could go on forever. Let's just allow Luc to kill him, I'm sure Miss Jeanne wouldn't mind--" he paused abruptly, an incredulous expression crossing over his face as Lyserg shook his head. "Why the bloody hell NOT, Lyserg?"  
  
"No one needs to DIE," the green-haired young man proclaimed with emphasis. "...and certainly not him," he inclined his head at Marco. "And besides, Jeanne would be very sad if he dies." He added as an afterthought.  
  
"DAMN right she would be." Marco muttered.  
  
"Hey!" Luc barked. "Don't flatter yourself."  
  
"Hmph." Marco glared at him. "...Nun molester."  
  
"WHAT THE BLOODY F**K?!?" Luc hurled the other man across the room forcefully and sent him crashing onto the floor with a hard bump. "Say that again," he said in between clenched teeth, eyes blazing as he walked threateningly towards Marco. "SAY. THAT. AGAIN."  
  
"Luc...NO...wait..." Caesar rushed forward and held the other man by the shoulder, evidently trying to restrain him. "He's just trying to infuriate you..."  
  
"...LET ME GO!" Luc struggled hard out of Caesar's grasp. "...I'M GONNA BLOODY KILL HIM, I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL!"  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed helplessly as Luc continued to struggle. He suddenly felt the urge to rap his head against the wall. He gazed at Marco on the floor. "Marco-san, PLEASE. We have absolutely no intention of killing you. I just need you to cooperate with me, and hear me out for a second." He gave the older man a pleading look. "Please?"  
  
"Un_hand_ me." Was the curt reply.  
  
Another sigh. Then, Lyserg exhaled, and reluctantly loosened the hold of his pendulum around Marco.  
  
"DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!" Luc barked, nailing the blonde man forcefully down the torture chair the second he tried to rush to the door. "Don't you MESS with any of us, or YOU'RE gonna get it, you freaking son of a b--mmpph!" His eyes widened as a hand clamped over his mouth. He glared murderously at his offender.  
  
"I don't think _Sarah_ would appreciate such profane language, Luc," Caesar, the said offender, told him with emphasis.  
  
Luc's face softened at the mention of the name, and he took a deep breath as the redhead let him go. Then, turning to Lyserg, he said, "Let's get this over with ALREADY. We've wasted a hell of enough time with this git. And YOU," he glared viciously at Marco, "you WILL LISTEN to Lyserg, else there's going to be a body floating over the Thames River by tomorrow morning, and it's NOT going to be either one of the three of us." He added pointedly. "...It's going to be YOU. Are we clear on THAT?" He waved his hand emphatically in the blonde man's direction.  
  
Marco winced as an eerie rush of air whizzed directly past his face sharply. "...Yes." He muttered grudgingly.  
  
Luc gave a satisfied smirk. "Good." He inclined his head meaningfully at Lyserg. "Go ahead. I'll hold him down."  
  
Lyserg nodded. "Marco-san," he began once more, "I intend to marry Jeanne, and if I'm going to propose to her, I need to make sure that _you_ wouldn't be interfering--"  
  
"You WILL NOT be marrying her." Marco stated firmly. "I will not allow it. I will NEVER a--" he gulped as the sharp tip of Lyserg's pendulum aimed threateningly at his forehead. He struggled out of the chair, but his whole body was bound by the pendulum string, coupled with invisible shackles courtesy of Luc.  
  
"...My intentions are pure and honorable," Lyserg continued, throwing the blonde man a warning look.  
  
Caesar suppressed a snort. "Pure and honorable. Yeah, right." He muttered under his breath.  
  
Luc smacked the other man on the head. "Whose side are you ON?" He demanded.  
  
"Ouch." Caesar groaned and rubbed his head. "I was kidding."  
  
Lyserg harrumphed, glaring at Caesar, before turning back to Marco. "I LOVE her," he said emphatically. "I love her, Marco-san...and she LOVES me."  
  
Marco raised an eyebrow. "Does SHE?" He commented mockingly.  
  
"Yes she _does_!" Caesar answered cheerfully. "...Much to the point of indecency, if I may say so." That comment earned him another bop on the head. "OUCH! Luc!" He whined.  
  
Lyserg could feel his face flooding with color, but he ignored it and continued, "Marco-san...all I'm asking is that you give me a chance. Let me prove myself. To you. To _her_. If I fail to make her happy, or hurt her in _any_ way, then by all means..." he paused, taking a deep breath, "...I give you the freedom to kill me with your own hands."  
  
A look of hungry eagerness flashed in Marco's eyes. "You mean that?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Lyserg nodded, his face the epitome of seriousness.  
  
"He wants to kill you." Caesar whispered to his friend's ear.  
  
"I know. I don't care." Lyserg whispered back. "...Marco-san? What do you say?"  
  
Marco looked extremely thoughtful for a moment. And then finally, he nodded. "I shall accept your terms."  
  
Lyserg heaved a sigh of relief. "Good."  
  
"...On ONE condition."  
  
Three heads snapped to attention. "What?" Lyserg asked hesitantly, feeling a bit of trepidation hovering at the back of his heart.

~*End of Flashback*~

"What was the condition?" Jeanne wanted to know.  
  
"Twenty-one."  
  
"Twenty-one?"  
  
"He wants me to wait until you're twenty-one before we get married," Lyserg explained dryly. "I was honestly relieved. I thought he was going to ask me to give up my...well," he shrugged. "Let's just say I was glad _that_ was the only thing he asked for." He wrapped his arms even tighter around her.  
  
"I think he's trying to bid enough time to be able to stop our wedding from happening," Jeanne murmured. "_That's_ why he wants us to wait this long."  
  
"I don't care," Lyserg said with determination. "He can try to stop it as much as he wants to--IF he can, that is," he added with a grin. "Caesar will know his plans before he can even get them completed." He chuckled. "...And when Caesar finds out, _he'll_ tell me and Luc, and we'll--"  
  
"--hang him upside-down and aim the tip of your pendulum at his head?" Jeanne shook her head dryly. "My future husband, the King of Torture."  
  
"..._Duke_," He corrected. "Luc's the King of Torture. I'm just the Duke. Anyway..." he smiled affectionately at her. "Can we set the date at around, say, the second of March next year?" He kissed her softly.  
  
"_My_ birthday?" She murmured in between kisses. "...If that's the soonest we can get married, then it suits me perfectly."  
  
"Good." He kissed her again, longer, deeper, and more thoroughly this time. "So...where do you want to go on our honeymoon?"  
  
"Venice." Jeanne answered instantly. "I want to sleep at that hotel again," she declared. "...Among other things," she added with a mischievous grin.  
  
Lyserg chuckled. "Venice it is, then." He caressed her cheek fondly.  
  
He was about to kiss her once more when a loud shout sounded from behind, startling them both. "HAPPY CHRISTMAS!"  
  
"...Caesar," Lyserg turned around, raising an eyebrow at his friend. "I should've known." He eyed the other man's arm, which was casually slung over the raven-haired Sister Vicki's shoulder. The redhead was also holding a bottle of wine in his hand. "...Is that your THIRD bottle?"  
  
"Yes. It is." Sister Vicki answered for him. She smiled brightly at Jeanne, who had her arms wrapped around Lyserg. "Everyone was wondering where the two of you disappeared to."  
  
"Quite right," A male voice announced. From the staircase, Luc appeared, with Sarah behind him, their hands clasped together. "Well, actually, Sarah, Caesar, and I knew you were here. The others don't, though." He grinned meaningfully at Lyserg, raising a knowing eyebrow as he spotted the glittering band on Jeanne's finger. "...Congratulations."  
  
Jeanne smiled brightly, her face glowing with happiness. "Thank you." Then, she gazed with curiosity at Sarah, who was frowning at something down the stairs. "Sister...I mean, Sarah...what is it?"  
  
The silvery-blonde woman managed a smile, but she pointed her finger down the stairs and gave everyone a look of caution. "...Marco's on his way up here. I don't think Caesar or Luc's brother can handle him any longer; they look pretty pissed." She squeezed her fiancé's arm and smiled apologetically at him. "I'm sorry. I know I specifically asked you to make sure they don't hurt him one bit, but it looks like..." Her voice trailed off.  
  
"It's FINE, Sarah," Luc smiled reassuringly. "My dear older brother can handle it. Albert can handle it. They don't mind," he added wryly. He flashed Lyserg a questioning look. "So...when do we get to go to Japan and meet your friends there?"  
  
"The second of March," Lyserg responded brightly. "Around two months after your wedding."  
  
"Excellent." The light-brown haired man turned to the stairs. "You can bring him up here now, you two!" He called out.  
  
In a moment, Jeanne's blonde, bespectacled guardian was in the second floor in a flash, with two men who looked very agitated behind him. One of the men had a striking resemblance to Luc, but with a softer face; while the other one had a striking resemblance to Caesar, but much more serious looking.  
  
"Jeanne-sama!" Ignoring everyone, Marco rushed to Jeanne's side, glaring at Lyserg darkly. "Take your hands OFF of her," he snarled.  
  
Lyserg gave him a sweet smile. "NO." He tightened his hold around Jeanne.  
  
"WHY YOU--"  
  
"Marco," Jeanne sighed with exasperation. "I forbid you to speak like that to my _fiancé_," she said with emphasis.  
  
Marco's eyes widened. "F...fiancé?" He uttered with shock.  
  
Lyserg rolled his eyes. "Marco-san, now's not the time to suffer a sudden bout of amnesia. I thought we've already talked about this."  
  
"We...we have." Marco nodded, utter disbelief crossing over his face this time. "But...I never actually thought you'd..."  
  
Jeanne raised her hand up in front of her guardian's face, showing him the ring as evidence. "He just proposed to me, Marco." She stated evenly.  
  
"He...did?" As he stared at the white-gold band, a myriad of emotions flashed over the blonde man's face...astonishment, anger, anguish, frustration, sadness...and then, finally, awareness...and resignation. "C...congratulations, Jeanne-sama...Lyserg-kun..." he managed at last, in a whisper.  
  
"Th...thank you, Marco-san," Lyserg said with surprise. He watched as the other man nodded in acknowledgement, and then, Marco turned around, walked away, and sat down on a dark corner. "...Will he be alright?" He whispered to his fiancée.  
  
Jeanne nodded, smiling faintly at her guardian, before turning to her future husband. "He'll be fine."  
  
"CONGRATULATIONS, LYSERG AND MISS JEANNE!" Caesar's loud, extremely drunk voice boomed. "...CONGRATULATIONS TO BOSS LUC AND SARAH TOO!" He added cheerfully as he chugged down the remaining contents of the bottle he was holding. "...Oops! Empty! Let's go back downstairs, Vicki dear..." he smiled sweetly at the raven-haired nun.  
  
She gave a sigh. "...Okay. Careful, Caesar. We'll see you all back downstairs!" She called out as she assisted the drunk detective.  
  
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!" Caesar called out behind him as he stumbled down.  
  
"We'd better go down, too," Luc decided, frowning at the direction Caesar disappeared to. "Heaven only knows what Caesar might do to this mansion of yours, Lyserg. Let's go, Sarah." He smiled at Lyserg and Jeanne, then, turned to his brother and to Caesar's brother, Albert. "...Are you two coming?"  
  
"Yeah," Albert responded shortly, walking towards Marco and pulling him along forcefully. "Come on up, you."  
  
"Let's go, Marco," came the much calmer and softer voice of Luc's older brother Sasarai as he held out an arm to the blonde man.  
  
Marco took the offered arm gratefully and stood up. With a final, sad glance in Lyserg and Jeanne's direction, he followed the two men down the stairs.  
  
"We'll leave you two alone now!" Sarah told them with a smile as she, too, left with Luc.  
  
"...So, where were we?" Lyserg grinned sweetly at his fiancée.  
  
Jeanne grinned back. "I think we were right about here..." She murmured as she tightened her hold around his neck and captured his mouth with hers.  
  
He chuckled against her lips. "...I thought so," he murmured as he continued to kiss her, his arms pulling her even closer against him. "Happy Christmas, soon-to-be Jeanne Diethyl..." he added before he kissed her again.  
  
She sighed contentedly, murmuring these words as she kissed him back. "...Happy Christmas as well, future husband Lyserg Diethyl."

OWARIMASHITA.

**End notes:  
**  
And so here ends The Venice Incident, a.k.a. Celebrations Side Story Number 1.^_^  
  
Luc and Sarah's kissing scene is dedicated to **EneriRenie**, who's been bugging me (much to the point of death) to put one here. Reen, I hope this satisfies your Luc/Sarah fantasies. Or was that scene entirely too short for you...?*grin*  
  
Once again, my excuses to those with firm religious beliefs out there. This is all a work of _fiction. _If the instances here offended you in some way, I'm really, really sorry! *bows head in sincere apology*.^^  
  
_**[PLUG! PLUG! PLUG!]**_  
  
**Navy and Azure**, a.k.a. **Celebrations Side Story Number 2**.   
  
_Summary_: Their love knows no boundaries. Their love is limitless, timeless...endless. He completed her, and she completed him...in the most ultimate sense. Yet...love does not always automatically lead to a happy ending.  
  
RenxPilica. Contains lots of waff, fluff, angst...and a really, infuriatingly annoying Tao En.  
  
_**[END PLUG]**_  
  
(Uhm, the YohXAnna one-shot side story was supposedly the one to come after this, but I'm too lazy to write a lemon right now. Maybe after.^^)  
  
And uh...also, due to my insanity these past couple of days, I managed to write the beginnings of a Rated R outtake of sorts for Lyserg and Jeanne set a couple of months after the Celebrations timeline. I won't be posting it anywhere (since it's absolutely pointless and smutty) but if you do wish to see it, then by all means drop me a mail, okees?^^  
  
As usual, reviews, reviews, reviews! *points below* Thankees!^_^


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